A Shattered Mind
by WANDER1NG DREAMER
Summary: Wise man once said,"Love heals all wounds." Strong warrior once said,"What is broken can be reforged." Riven has been caught in an internal war with the ghosts of her past. The Will of the Blades hopes to spare Riven from the dark madness that is slowly consuming the Noxian Exile. However, one question remains. Can a wise warrior's love reforge a shattered mind?[Rivelia](expect it)
1. Chapter 1: Perpetua

**Author Notes and Disclaimer:**

** Don't mind me I'm just writing because I want to. It's been a long while since I've written in story format due to my film/script writing tendencies over the years which requires English simple enough for 3rd graders to read and is predominantly dialogue driven. Forgive me if you find some grammatical errors. Another thing to note, due to the pace of how scripts are written, I will try extremely hard not to rush along too fast. **

**Constructive criticism is always welcome no matter what. Time is a self invested currency and how one chooses to use it determines their success in life. It would honor me if one invested the time they can never have back to help usher me back into proper story writing habits.**

**A suggestion: **For those of you who are not familiarized with the mental Illness **_Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder_ **(More commonly known as **PTSD**) I would recommend reading a quick health article about its symptoms, treatments and causes. Understanding that a little more will help you as a reader relate to and connect a bit better with the characters and their situations. A good route would be to google "combat stress PTSD" and go to the website called Combat Stress. I believe the goodle listing will say "Myth Busters l Combat Stress." This isn't required, it is only a suggestion. PTSD is quit interesting if people are bored and want to learn a little.

**Disclaimer (Because I feel guilty if I don't post one): **All characters, spells, locations and titles are direct property of Riot Games. I am a humble fan and wish to write stories. No income will be made from this entry.

With that out of the way, I, Wander1ng Dreamer, present to you...

**A Shattered Mind**

* * *

Chapter 1: Perpetua

_The air was thick and stained a putrid emerald as the unyielding silence hung heavy over the desecrated valley floor. The silence was suddenly shattered by the sound of labored breathing as a figure hastily marched through the never ending sickly haze. The once solid ground made a horrendous squelch with every exhausting step the female soldier took. The woman's pace began to slow as she struggled to pull her military grade boots from the grasping earth. She finally came to a complete stop. A cloud of hot breath escaped her lungs into the cold air as she exhaled deeply and bent over to rest her hands upon her knees. The receding silence quickly returned as she stood quietly within the green mist. Only traces of her once platinum hair could be distinguished through the caked layer of blood, sweat and mud. _

_Her head perked up as the sound of a heavy foot step sunk deep into the ground behind her. The female soldier quickly attempted to move to her left. The soft ground gave way from her sudden movement as she slipped into the mud. She scrambled desperately to the left just enough as a massive black weapon slammed down deep into the earth causing mud to splash all over the grounded soldier. Her eyes slowly shifted to the base of the goliathan sword that rest only inches from where she lay. The glow from the emerald runes cut through the haze as the soldier's eyes traced the length of the blade to its master._

_The woman mustered enough strength to turn herself onto her back as the sword was dislodged from its makeshift earthen sheath with ease. The muddy soldier looked up at the armored figure wielding the blade; its red eyes almost glowing under the hood that hid its identity. The warrior swung the blade wide causing the mud which dirtied its edge to slide away cleanly. The soldier's eyes locked onto the dark figure as a cloud of hot breath billowed through the armor from under the hood. The dark warrior's voice sounded twisted and monstrous as it spoke._

_ "__Perpetua…"_

_The goliathan blade hoisted high. The soldier looked up at the blade with a defeated gaze and squeezed her eyes shut as the warrior roared, bringing the weapon downward mercilessly._

With a loud yelp crimson eyes shot open as she jolted up from her position. Her eyes frantically scanned her surroundings as her lungs struggled to find air. The flaming irises finally locked onto a single item that hung from a wrack on the wall not too far from where she sat. Strands of platinum stuck to her face as her quaking body began to relax while her eyes slowly followed the edge of the broken blade.

A single viridian rune etched within the black stone gently throbbed with a faint glow. Riven sat silently examining what remained of the shattered weapon while she mindlessly wiped the thin film of sweat from her brow.

"How long has it been old friend? Since we were both whole?"

The blade seemed to react to the voice of its owner. The single rune gently glowed slightly brighter than before she spoke. To any other people the change in the rune's behavior would have gone unnoticed, but to its master the change was rather lively when it's not being physically held.

_A sword mirrors its owner,_ she thought quietly to herself as she flinched slightly from a stinging sensation in her left forearm. Riven tenderly touched the bandages that wrapped her forearm and hand. With a soft sigh Riven swung her legs over the side of her bed. The fair-haired woman somewhat yawned as she flexed and stretched her tired muscles awake.

Riven finally stood after sitting still for several seconds and walked over to a dresser that stored what little clothing she owned. A mirror was attached to the wall above the waist high dresser and Riven quickly disregarded her reflection like usual by looking down. Her gaze shifted over to the single tarnished shoulder guard that sat atop the dresser. Riven caught her fingertips mindlessly ghosting over the worn symbol etched into the metal plating. She pulled her hand away, snapping back to reality as she felt another slight sting plague her left arm.

Groaning in annoyance, Riven ripped open the top drawer of the dresser and grabbed a roll of fresh bandages and a small tin container. Riven quietly unwrapped the old bandages and sighed looking at the defected and flawed skin that was once hidden beneath them. Though the external injury had long healed leaving behind a scarred mess, the true damage lied within. Despite the residual internal physical damage her arm suffered the more severe injury lay within her mind.

Riven silently opened the tin container which contained a cream-like substance. She dipped her right finger tips into the medication and tenderly rubbed it along the mangled surface of her forearm.

_Commander, help me!_

"Stop…it…," she growled through grit teeth.

_Please! Don't let go!_

Riven squeezed her eyes shut as her hand latched down around her injured forearm.

_Don't let me die! _

Riven's jaw clenched down tighter. Her patience had long disappeared with the voices that plagued and haunted her thoughts when they so pleased. Lately, she grew angry and tyrannical when these memories flashed through her mind, disrupting her most normal of activities. They were beginning to haunt her more frequently than ever before.

_RIVEN!_

"ENOUGH!" Riven screamed as she punched the mirror causing it shatter instantaneously.

"Riven!?" A voice called out as the door to her room burst open.

"GET OUT!" Riven yelled as an unsuspecting Irelia ducked from the flying water glass that the exiled Noxian Commander had chucked at her with force. The exile dropped to her knees while her hands gripped at her snowy hair and blood ran down her arm from her cut up hand caused from punching the mirror. "Please…get out…" She pleaded softly with the voices echoing through her head.

"Tch...Like a child," Irelia mumbled under her breath as she approached the trembling Noxian. Despite Irelia growing frustrated with Riven's little outbursts, she could not scold the exile for her behavior. The Ionian captain of the guard understood that Riven's mind was as broken as the weapon she never left her room without. Irelia's blades quivered slightly in defiance and caution as the obsidian haired woman knelt down near the shaking platinum haired ex-soldier. "You're making a mess and getting blood in your hair," Irelia sighed as she gently took hold of Riven's iron grip.

Riven flinched from the sudden contact and tried to move away only to have her shoulder's grabbed in Irelia's stone hard grip. The Will of the Blades forced Riven to stand and had her sit down on the edge of her bed. Riven could have easily resisted the onyx haired woman but chose not to through guilty reasoning. Riven did, however, turn her head away defiantly as Irelia's piercing emerald gaze tried to bore into her own.

"Riven look at me," Irelia said with a stern tone.

The exile didn't comply out of sheer stubbornness. Irelia's eyes narrowed at this childish notion and tried to grab Riven's chin with her hand.

"Look… Riven…Riven!" The exile kept trying to move her head away from Irelia's grasp. "LOOK AT ME, DAMN YOU!" Irelia finally managed to grab the lower half of the squirming Noxian's face in a fierce, yet gentle, grasp forcing her head straight.

Riven's eyes locked onto the quivering blades that hovered just inches away from her. She knew that weapon didn't like being around her because of what she had used to be, but Riven felt no threat from the blades because they would never defy their owner's will. Riven did not like to be touched and Irelia knew this, but in a situation such as this one, it was out of good intension to keep it under control.

"Look at me," Irelia's voice was soft. "It's over; there is no war. You're at the institute, not in Ionia. You're safe; you and I are the only ones in this room." Irelia frowned slightly seeing the dark rings under the exile's eyes revealing how exhausted Riven really was. _Nightmares have been keeping you awake again haven't they…_the Ionian thought.

The Exile finally gave in as her blazing irises focused on the adjacent pair of soft green eyes. Riven's panic stricken breathing began to calm as she focused on Irelia's gaze.

Irelia sighed in relief as she felt the exile begin to relax, signifying that this ordeal was over and no violence was to ensue. The Captain of the guard delicately released her grip on Riven and looked at the exile's injured hand which had bloodied up the right side of Riven's face and hair.

"You know I don't like to be touched, Irelia."

_Same old Riven…_Irelia thought while she stood up to grab supplies so Riven could clean herself up. "I am aware, but you chose to throw a glass cup at me; you brought it upon yourself Riven. You needed to calm down and I've noticed that using a little force goes a long way with you and your little problem. Besides, we don't need a repeat of the first time, do we?" she bluntly replied.

"Back when you hated me…"

Irelia paused quietly for a moment as the words sunk in. "I never hated you Riven," she responded. "If I did, I wouldn't be here right now to keep you from hurting yourself, which I slightly failed to do this time."

Riven scoffed.

"Stop trying to act like this isn't serious Riven. I understand that you aren't used to having people around that care about you but you need to realize that these little mental breakdowns are starting to become more frequent and a problem. What do you think will happen if you have one in a sanctified League match? You need to find a way to balance yourself and gain some self-control before something bad happens."

Riven glared at Irelia as the Ionian approached her with bandages. "Typical Ionian ranting about 'Balance in all things'," the exile growled slightly.

"Typical Noxian being hot-headed and stubborn," Irelia countered the slight verbal jab while trying to maintain patience with the obviously irritated exile. Irelia knew Riven wasn't always this way and she understood that she wasn't the source of Noxian's frustrations. It wasn't easy living with the traumatic stress the once Noxian Commander lived with. The exile was usually much wiser, calmer and possessed incredible discipline. In fact, Irelia was impressed by how long Riven had been able to conceal and suppress her broken mental state from everyone, including the summoners, who had direct access to the very minds of the champions within the league. "You're much stronger than you think…" Irelia said. "Even if you're starting to lose the battle with yourself…" she whispered soft enough that it wasn't audible to Riven.

Riven quietly looked at the marred skin of her left forearm as she thought over the words that her friend had just said; to speak of strength to a Noxian was a compliment of highest regards. She felt a slight twinge of guilt pull at her mind because of her behavior. "I'm…sorry," Riven confessed, "I didn't mean to be rude or out of line. I have been feeling…out of sorts lately." Riven looked at Irelia, who stood in front of her with bandages and a wet cloth to clean up the blood from her face and freshly wounded hand.

"No need to apologize, you've done enough of that to last two lifetimes," Irelia commented as she handed Riven the wet cloth while the exile began to clean her wound and wipe off her face. Riven's comment about feeling 'out of sorts' somewhat bothered Irelia. "Did you finish applying the medicine for your arm?"

"No, I didn't," Riven replied as she felt another sting. As frustrated as Riven was with her arm always needing to be rubbed down with medication to make it feel numb everyday she's rather grateful that she only deals with that and post-traumatic stress over losing her life. Although, some days she's caught herself wishing it all ended that day.

"Well, be sure to finish that and your range of motion exercises to determine if you're losing any more movement in that arm," Irelia said as she walked back over to the dresser to retrieve the medicated cream that Riven had left there before her little episode.

"Yes Mother," Riven replied rather miffed.

The Ionian set the medicine tin down on Riven's leg and crossed her arms with an annoyed look on her face. Irelia then smirked slightly and walked back over to the dresser.

Riven raised an eye-brow due to the silence of Irelia and shook her head slightly to disregard her friend who had walked back to her dresser randomly.

"Hey Riven."

The platinum haired warrior looked up from her activity of wrapping her arm when suddenly she felt a quick swipe of a cold and wet substance streak across her left cheek.

"Mother knows best," Irelia chuckled trying to lighten the mood. She wiped the remaining pale war paint from her thumb she used to cover the scar on Riven's cheek like the exile always wore to hide it.

"Hmph…"

_Won't you ever smile Riven…?_


	2. Chapter 2: Haunted

**Author's Note: (Sorry me again D: )**

**I need to mention that I am a cluster writer. A cluster writer basically means I am going to to writing and posting many chapters in a short amount of time. People can expect multiple chapters in a single day at times. However, when I hit a writer's block or need some inspiration to continue writing there may be periods of time where an update is needed and won't arrive quickly. I'm by no means saying I will ****disappear ****for months on end with no updates I will simply be sitting at the creation station re-greasing the wheels of imagination! *Rainbow hands***

**That is all for now.**

* * *

Chapter 2: Haunted

Riven sat quietly on the edge of her bed within her dimly lit room. Her crimson eyes were locked firmly on the broken blade that hung from the wall as she moved her left arm around. The single rune continued to resonate a weak emerald glow as if begging to be held. Riven's gaze never faltered as she moved her fingers and tested the grip strength of her left hand, which had become significantly weaker than it once was long ago when she was a young commander.

The exile stood up after finishing her typical routine and strapped on what little armor she chosen to keep all these years. Riven quietly slipped her bandaged right hand into a large leather gauntlet and turned back to face the broken blade. Riven could feel the shattered glass from the broken mirror crunch lightly under her sandaled foot as she took a step forward. The exile looked down at the glass on the floor. She released a deep sigh meeting the eyes of the broken reflection within the scattered shards.

_How appropriate…_she thought as she walked away from the mess to her just as shattered sword. Riven took hold of the hilt without hesitation and lifted it from its holder. The once dim viridian rune shone bright with power as the sword made contact with its wielder. Riven herself felt the surge of lively energy emitted from the rune blade and it brought a slight smile to her face; an emotion that not many ever witnessed of the exile. Riven's fingers played along the edges of her blade's runic inscription—an idle habit, long deprived of meaning. She sighed softly and walked to the door of her room.

Irelia had already left to attend to matters of her own. Riven softly touched the now dry war paint that streaked across her cheek. Her friend was always doing things like that. When they first became acquaintances, Irelia was consistently offering help when Riven personally didn't seek any nor wanted it; Riven had always been stubborn about receiving help. She would rather struggle forever with a problem than ever seek help from another. Overcoming obstacles was a test of one's strength.

_Seeking help is a sign of weakness!_ The old drill Sergeant's words echoed through her mind. _You DO or you DIE._

"Because there is no room for the meek in Noxus," Riven mumbled to herself in the empty hallway while completing the old drill Sergeant's speech.

Riven's distracted thoughts were rudely interrupted by the growl of her stomach. The single viridian rune flickered slightly as if mocking its owner's internal embarrassment. Riven cleared her throat and tapped the sword's edge against the hard tile floor. "You best behave if you wish to see any action today," Riven grumbled slightly at the blade as if it could physically hear her. Who was she trying to kid; Riven had nothing better to do other than eat, suffer and train.

Riven walked silently up to the doors that lead into the main halls of the league. As much as Riven hated to admit it, she somewhat had grown accustom to the bustling of the Institute, despite her anti-social tendencies. She had never been much of a socialite, which allowed her to excel in the Noxian military. The fair-haired warrior took a deep breath and did what she had always done, looked down and walked silently through the crowd toward her already decided destination.

Every now and then, Riven would peer up through her alabaster bangs so she wouldn't bump into anyone. However, this time she felt more distracted than usual.

_Clank_

Riven stumbled slightly after bumping into the worst possible candidate. The bear of a man turned around with a slight sneer as he looked down at the exile, his dark glare almost as sharp as the gigantic axe he used on the battle field.

"Watch yourself _stray_, unless you wish to be put down for good." The threat was dark and direct. Riven narrowed her eyes at the Noxian General who continued to hold his cold, relentless, stare. The once lively crowd of champions and summoners alike began to die down and eyes shifted to focus on the potential danger of a fight breaking out.

Riven's grip on her sword tightened as she held the General's stare. She did not fear Darius in the slightest despite the war stories she displeasingly had the honor of hearing. The suspense within the hall had grown so thick that it could have been physically cut with a knife.

"Alright, that's quite enough of that!" A rather high-pitched female voice called out while the clapping of her hands finally chased away the lingering silence. Luxanna Crownguard elegantly strode up to the pair of seething Noxians who seemed unmoved by the sudden disruption.

Riven didn't flinch as she felt a hand come to rest upon her un-armored shoulder while she continued to glare at Darius.

"Walk away, Riven," Leona calmly asked as Riven began to feel her shoulders being pulled away from Darius. It wasn't un-common for other champions to step in when things became heated amongst opposing factions. Actions like these often ended most altercations before they spiraled out of control, forcing the league to step in and establish disciplinary action upon those who broke the rules of engagement outside the Fields of Justice.

The Radiant Dawn could feel Riven half resisting her intention of trying to end this confrontation until the petite blonde Demacian placed herself between the Hand of Noxus and the Exile; a brave move.

"Riven…please," Lux whispered softly as her tiny hands began to press forward on Riven's shoulders while Leona pulled the exile back. Riven's gaze shifted from Darius down to the much smaller light mage. "It's not worth it, be the bigger person and walk away."

The platinum haired woman gave in as she stopped resisting Lux and Leona and backed away from Darius.

"Yes, walk away _Exile_; just like you did to Noxus," Darius taunted Riven as she was being held back by Leona and Lux both.

Before Riven even had the chance to retaliate with a response she felt a hand cover her mouth firmly. Her crimson eyes darted to the third party that dared to stand in her way only to meet the cold glare of none other than Irelia. "Luxanna and—"

"Lux," the Demacian corrected.

"Lux and I can take of her from here Leona, thank you for helping," Irelia smiled at the Radiant Dawn before her expression faded back to a stern toward the Noxian.

Leona sighed in relief and released her hold on Riven. She bowed her head slightly toward Lux and Irelia before picking up her shield and zenith blade and walked away.

The crowded great hall shortly began to buzz with life once more as Irelia and Lux half drug the now silent exile away to a separate corridor. Once away from the crowd, Riven forcefully tore herself away from the Demacian and Ionian's grip.

"I don't need help," Riven growled. "Stop trying to help me all the time!"

Lux flinched slightly from Riven's tone but Irelia remained unmoved while crossing her arms.

"We're your friends Riven…we choose to help because we want to not because we feel obligated to," the blonde half whimpered. "I don't want to see you get hurt or in trouble and neither does Ire." Irelia slightly twitched from hearing Lux use her nickname that only her family had ever addressed her by.

"I don't want yours or Irelia's or anyone else's help!" Riven yelled. "So stop tr—,"

Lux flinched slightly as a loud slap echoed through the corridor. Riven didn't bother to move her head back forward to face the trembling blonde or the captain of the guard.

"Don't you _dare_ yell at her for trying to be a good person," Irelia said with a tone as icy as the Freljord. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately Riven, but it needs to end before you do or say something you'll regret."

"You know nothing of the word," Riven grumbled as she forced her way past Irelia and Lux.

"Riven! Wait!"

"Let her go Lux," Irelia said as she set a hand on the Crownguard's shoulder. "Leave her be to calm down. She'll be alright in due time."

Lux's usual positive and chipper expression was somber as she stared off into the direction Riven had stormed off in. "She isn't alright, is she Ire?"

Irelia sighed hearing her nickname again. As much as she didn't want to be called that, now wasn't the time to bring up that conversation since Lux was just on the brunt end of Riven's frustration. If Luxanna sought comfort in the ability to address Irelia by her childhood name then so be it for the time being. However, Lux was right; Riven was not alright. "She is troubled deeply…" Irelia commented.

Lux shook her head softly, causing her golden locks to sway. "We are losing our friend gradually…if she continues to push us away Ire, I fear the worst possible outcome is just on the horizon. Riven is strong; I never doubted that, but, physical strength is a whole different type of power compared to mental strength. No amount of swinging a sword will strengthen the mind. She needs to let us in!" Lux shouted as she stomped her foot on the floor.

Irelia blinked a couple times in surprise from Lux's little outburst.

"I'm sorry," Lux mumbled as she adjusted her outfit.

Irelia waved her hand dismissively, "No need to apologize for expressing some frustration Lux. You are amongst a friend here. We need to keep in mind that Riven is a veteran of war that was betrayed and left for dead by the very people she dedicated her life to serve. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she has some trauma and trust issues," Irelia shook her head slightly before she continued. "The devastation left behind in the Coeur Valley was abominable. Some of my men within the guard that were deployed to provide assistance in the cleanup still seek counseling to this very day in order to cope with the horrors they witnessed."

Lux looked down at her feet as she listened to Irelia talk. She knew Riven was a war veteran and of the betrayal, but to hear Irelia describe her men that did nothing but cleanup the aftermath of the attack was deeply troubling. "If your guards are horrified just by the aftermath…no one but a survivor could even fathom the terror of being on the front line."

* * *

A war cry as strong and loud as one would only ever hear in the heat of battle rang true throughout the training room. Riven was never one to go through the motions as she swung the broken blade through the air at full force as if cutting down manifested invisible enemies. The single viridian rune left behind a streak of light as the blade sliced through the air. A bead of sweat trickled down the contour edges of her face as she stepped forward and jumped in the air. Using her own momentum and the weight of the shattered weapon she flipped forward slamming the blade down onto the ground with enough force it would easily cause her opponent to lose their footing.

Riven held that position for a short moment as her blazing irises locked onto a training dummy a short distance away; an easy gap for her to close.

_Shink_

The point of the broken blade sunk deep into the make-shift torso of the training dummy. Her frosty eye-brows pulled together as her crimson eyes analyzed the devastation of the wound she'd inflicted upon the dummy. It was nothing in comparison to when the sword was whole. The exile grumbled slightly as she pushed the blade downward causing the dummy to rip; a slow, torturous and agonizing death if the dummy could feel. The ripping sound of the dense fabric emitted a disturbing echo through the training room as the blade carved its path. The warrior closed her eyes, listening intently to the tearing sound. The sand from within the dummy began to pour from the gaping wound the sword left in its wake.

Her eyes remained closed as she flinched suddenly hearing the sound of liquid patter onto the floor. Riven opened her eyes looking at the crimson liquid running down the blade and spilling onto the floor. Riven's expression faded to horror as she realized what the liquid was and looked up from the messy floor to meet the pain twisted face of a person.

_MURDERER!_ It screamed.

The stone rune sword hit the floor with a loud thud as Riven stumbled away from the dummy. She wanted to scream but her lungs could not find the air to. Riven's hands took entire fistfuls of her alabaster locks as her terrorized gaze stared at the damaged training dummy. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

_What the hell is happening to me!? _Her mind raced as fast as her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Riven's eyes locked onto the blade lying at the base of the training dummy. A small pile of sand had begun to build up on the black stone of the sword. Riven snapped back to reality as a dagger swiftly flew past her head and dug deep into the floor at her feet.

"You cost me some money today."

There was a natural cockiness behind the female voice as Riven heard the soft landing of feet a short distance behind her current position. Riven didn't bother to turn around to face the owner as she lowered her hands from her head back down to her sides. She knew that voice.

"I was so ready to toss some gold coins on that fight earlier, but, seeing you freak out over breaking something that belongs to the institute was rewarding in itself. I can't say I've ever seen you so…_riled_."

"What do you want…Sinister Blade," Riven growled.

"Easy now, _Exile_, no need to speak with such a hostile tone towards a fellow countryman," Katarina slightly mocked Riven as she walked past the warrior while dislodging the dagger from the floor in one easy and swift motion.

The fiery red-head put the dagger away as she looked up at the physically and emotionally drained ex-Noxian. Riven's gaze shifted down towards the assassin. Katarina could not match up to Riven when it came to raw strength and physique but that meant nothing to an assassin. Riven knew how deadly Katarina's speed was and this put her on edge. The lingering silence did nothing to help Riven feel comfortable in Katarina's presence.

"Are you angry, Riven?" Katarina asked curiously.

"Why do you ask, or even care rather?" Riven replied narrowing her eyes at the assassin.

Katarina turned away from Riven while she over exaggerated ponderous body language. "Your form was terrible, your swings erratic, your strikes lacked meaning or killing potential and need I mention you basically freaked out over destroying a training dummy. Why even train at all if you're just going to practice bad habits. The proud Noxian military surly doesn't teach its commanders to slack off in training."

Riven could feel her knuckles crack as her hands balled into fists while she lowered her head causing her bangs to hide her eyes. She knew what Katarina's motives were; she wanted a fight. Katarina was purposely trying to get under Riven's skin so she would have a reason to fight after Riven lashed out. Riven took deep breaths as she honed in on the discipline the many years of military training and service beat into her. The taller woman walked passed Katarina to retrieve the sword from the floor.

Katarina narrowed her eyes as she watched the exile retrieve her weapon. The adrenaline of a potential fight coursed through the Sinister Blade's veins. The assassin's fingers twitched slightly as if preparing to take hold of a blade while Riven turned and approached her with weapon in hand. The red-head blinked in surprise as the warrior pushed passed her and walked towards the door. "Well, you're no fun at all. Exiled or not, you haven't changed one damn bit."

"Good day, Katarina," Riven said with a brutally neutral tone as she left the training hall.


	3. Chapter 3: A Lesson Learned

**Author's Note: Oh my the Follows and Favs. Thanks to those who are willing to stick with me I promise all things will come to light in due time :) 3**

**P.S: Kudos to those who can recognize the movie scene that inspired a certain event in this chapter ;)**

* * *

Chapter 3: A Lesson Learned

Horrendous; No other word could describe her day thus far. Riven's entire body quaked as she stood there quietly on the summoning platform. The other champions that participated in the match had long gone. The soft hum of arcane magic kept the silence away as the exile stared blankly into the surrounding darkness.

_Thirteen deaths…_she thought bitterly. Thirteen times she felt her spirit torn away from the gateways of the afterlife and forced back into its mortal shell.

Despite death not being completely permanent within a sanctified league match, it still hurt. The process of dying and resurrecting was brutal and unnatural. The body certainly felt the after effects. The aching pain that wracked Riven's body was close to unbearable and nothing like she'd ever felt after a single match. To die that many times within a short period of time has hardly ever happened and Riven was physically paying the price for both the summoner's and her own misjudgments. She wanted to collapse onto the platform and pass out until her body could recover, but even that action sounded agonizing in itself.

"Riven…?"

The platinum haired champion didn't bother to inflict herself with unnecessary pain by turning her head to acknowledge the voice. Riven had heard enough of it during the match. "Layne," she managed to choke out a response.

The rather tall and slender man pulled his hood down as he approached the former Noxian commander. His summoner robes were heavily embroidered and decorated with all manners of medals from years of service to the institute. He was a highly ranked veteran summoner who had probably worked with every champion within the league at one point or another. Layne was no stranger to the exiled warrior. Riven was his favorite champion to work with because of their incomparable synergy on the fields, which shocked some of the opposing summoners when Riven's death toll rose so high.

"Why didn't you let me stop the match?" Layne asked with a hint of worry behind his voice. "I've always admired your will to never surrender Riven, but to risk your wellbeing like that for the sake of pride is reckless and stupid…"

Riven closed her eyes and chose not to reply to one of the very few summoners she trusted at the institute. She could hear her heart throbbing in her ears almost drowning out Layne's voice completely as he tried to get answers. Her sword silently slipped from her fingers and hit the summoning platform. The Noxian felt her knees buckle as a sudden wave of fatigue surged through her entire being. The distant voice of the panicked summoner yelling her name sounded like a faint whisper as she felt her eyes roll and consciousness slip into the darkness.

* * *

The soft tapping of fingernails within the almost empty library kept the eerie silence at bay. The simple sound of turning the page of a book wasn't enough to keep the blonde reader comfortable, despite how much she enjoyed reading.

"Lady Crownguard… do you mind?" a stern voice broke the Demacian's concentration as she looked up from her book. Her eyes met the soft silver irises of the book keeper. There was a slight glow to them due to the room being naturally dim to help preserve some of the older manuscripts and records stored at the institute.

"Sorry Diana, I just don't like complete silence. It kind of creeps me out," Lux admitted with a half-hearted smile. "I find it hard to concentrate without a little bit of background noise, as strange as that may sound." The light mage rubbed the back of her head when all she received from Diana was a slight grunt of a response. Lux quietly watched Diana reshelf some of the books she was holding while processing some of the information she was reading about. There was a short pause before Lux decided to engage a conversation with the Scorn of the Moon. "Hey Diana, how come you enjoy taking care of the Library?"

The silver haired woman paused for a long moment while she processed the question. "Because I like to," was all she had for an answer for the Demacian.

Lux cocked her head off to the side and crossed her arms. "That isn't much of an answer, Diana. Surly there is more to your love for the library than that."

The pair of glowing silver eyes shifted back to the blonde as Diana put the final book onto the shelf. "Why the sudden interest in me, Lady of Luminosity?" Diana's tone was cautious yet seemed to have a slight hint of interest in continuing the conversation. It had been a long while since the Lunari warrior had sat down to simply talk with another person.

Lux gave her a friendly smile. "Well, I mean, I'm here enough aren't I? It seems we both have a love for reading and knowledge so I might as well try to get to know the person who takes care of the books shouldn't I?" If there was one thing Lux was very good at, it was conversing. Lux extended her hand at the chair across from the table where she sat offering Diana to sit down.

Diana remained where she was for a moment longer until she gave in and walked over to sit down with a fellow scholar and champion. The pale woman knew Lux spent a lot of time here among the books. Diana herself has done the same since arriving at the institute. She would often find the Demacian here reading. Her gaze shifted down at the open book resting in front of the blonde. She recognized it. "Ah, _The Psychology of War_, that is quite an interesting read. However, you don't seem like one who would be particularly interested in reading about the effects war has on the mind. This intrigues me; what is your motive to learn about this subject of all things?"

Lux blinked a couple times surprised that Diana knew the book just from looking at it. The blonde was impressed by Diana's ability to present herself as an intellectual just through asking a question. Lux could only imagine how well Diana would answer a question if she ever asked one. "Well, we do live at the Institute of War. I'm curious if the constant fighting on the Fields of Justice even under controlled conditions may have negative long term effects on the minds of champions like ourselves, regardless if we were ever deployed to participate in an actual war beforehand."

Diana nodded her head as she thought over the answer the light mage had presented her. "That does seem like a valid theory to look into. I believe if you want to learn about the negative long term effects war has on the mind," Diana said as she reached across the table and picked up the book, "You'll want to jump to chapter eleven, section nine-teen." Diana flipped through the book with impressive speed and precision to the exact spot she was seeking and slid the book back over to the blonde. "Post-combat stress really depends on the severity of traumatic exposure the combatant suffered during the war itself. However, in terms of the league, I feel the more common traumatic triggers, such as the fear of death or bodily harm, have become nullified due to the fact that within a controlled league match the combatants are technically immortal. That being said, I feel like most champions of the league have become numb to the on setting causes of traumatic combat stress because they know they cannot truly die."

Lux smiled as she quietly scanned over the section of the book while processing the well thought out opinion of her company. "You're truly impressive Ms. Diana. You picked through my pondering with a fine-tooth comb and gave a very well-rounded and reasonable answer to that theory. You seem to be very enlightened on this subject."

Diana felt a light smile pull at her lips from the compliment she received from the petite blonde. "I hail from a place where its denizens seem to have a rather sick obsession with the 'Art' of War and fighting to the death as a rite of passage. Rather barbaric, in my opinion." The silver haired champion shrugged slightly.

The Demacian turned the page and noticed another section titled _Disorders_. "Hey, Diana…?"

The Lunari warrior looked at the blonde. "Hm?"

"What about the disorders end of the spectrum? How would one be able to tell if someone suffers that badly?" Lux asked with a hint of worry behind her words.

Diana sat quietly for a moment as she thought over the details of her answer. "Well, in terms of the extreme end of the spectrum, like a mental stress disorder caused from the trauma of war or a traumatic event in general, there are three categories of symptoms a person with a disorder can suffer from. The book really goes into detail regarding symptoms and such but I highly doubt a champion would ever suffer something as severe as that just because of fighting on the Fields of Justice. There would have had to of been a traumatic trigger from before they were inducted for that to ever be a possibility in my honest opinion. Besides, if a champion does develop and suffers from a traumatic stress disorder such as this they must be pretty hell bent on hiding it or consider self-isolation as a way of coping with their symptoms when really that is the worst possible thing they can do."

_I knew it…_ Lux thought as she ran a hand through her golden locks. _Irelia was right all along…_

The two champions looked at one another as the soft hum of arcane magic began to build in strength. Diana looked down at her feet to notice the pale blue light from a summoner's calling. "Well, it seems that I am being called upon to fight."

Lux nodded at the woman as the light grew in strength. "May I borrow the book? I'll bring it back, I promise."

"You may borrow it. Don't lose it. Let's sit down and talk again in the future Ms. Crownguard," Diana gave a genuine smile as her figure dissipated in the azure light.

The blonde champion sat quietly in the library for a few moments longer until the soft growling protest from her stomach caught her attention. Lux looked up at the clock and gasped slightly. "Oh my I've been here that long!?" Lux gathered up her things and carefully marked the page of the book that Diana had so kindly pointed out to her. She swiftly left the library and out into the grand hall of the league.

It didn't take long before Lux found herself reading through the book while walking towards the dining halls of the institute.

"Well, well, look what came walking up to Draven today," the extremely narcissistic Noxian gloated as he stepped up to Lux and pulled the book from her hands. He held it away from the blonde mage as she tried to grab it back from him.

"Draven may I please have my book back, please?" She crossed her arms and gave the Glorious Executioner a slight glare.

"Draven doesn't understand how you can even read this thing there's no pictures in here," he said as he held the book sideways letting the pages free turn on their own from the gravity. "Draven thinks you should get your face out of those books and focus on more important things," the Noxian said as he tossed the book away and stepped in front of it as Lux tried to grab it from the floor. "Like Draven."

Lux looked up at the figure that grabbed the book from the floor behind Draven and sighed with relief.

"Don't you have a date with a mirror you pompous buffoon…" The Demacian ranger stepped around the Noxian and handed the book back to Lux.

"Oooh, Draven likes em' feisty," Draven said leaning in towards the light mage and the ranger. Draven instantly pulled his face away when the regal blue eagle perched upon the taller Demacian's shoulder spread his large wings and emitted an aggressive and loud screech.

Quinn brought her hand up and scratched behind the eagle's head while glaring at the Glorious Executioner. "Easy Val," she soothed her companion as her golden eyes shifted to Lux who had the book wrapped up in her arms. "What're you reading about this time Luxanna?" Quinn asked trying to see the title of the book.

"Oh… I was just doing some personal research is all," Lux smiled at Quinn. The blonde giggled slightly when valor nuzzled his beak against her hair. "Yes, hello Valor," she smiled and pet the eagle's head. "How was your match today Quinn?"

The ranger rubbed the back of her head. "Uh, well, it was almost stopped mid match. My team lost horribly because of Riven today."

Both Demacian's turned their attention back towards the obnoxious blood brother as he bellowed out his signature laugh. "That's the best thing Draven's heard all day! Riven throwing an entire match!? Why do you all act so surprised this happened?!" the Noxian continued to laugh. "Once a traitor, always a traitor and now she's betraying her own teams in the League! That bitch is crazy in the head. One time Draven over-heard her talking to that pathetic excuse for a weapon like it was her friend. Bah ha ha ha! Not even Draven would settle for that!"

"Hey! Riven isn't crazy…wait…did he just call himself a man-whore?"

"I think so," Quinn replied to Lux.

Draven continued to laugh as he unconsciously approached the two Demacians. This time Valor leaped off Quinn's shoulder and attacked Draven's face. "Not the face! Anything but Draven's face!" he cried out and stumbled down the hall way with Valor in tow.

Lux turned her attention back to Quinn immediately after she processed what the ranger said before Draven interrupted. "What do you mean your team lost just because of Riven? How does that even happen there are five of you out there! Why would they even consider stopping a match right in the middle of it?"

A stern look took ahold of Quinn's features as Lux bombarded her with questions. The ranger extended her arm as Valor glided back to his partner after Draven had been chased off. "Well, when a single champion dies thirteen times in one match I would want to stop it to. That's dangerous for a champion to die that many times in a short amount of time…that's why they almost forcibly stopped the match."

A look of shock controlled Lux's expression as Quinn described what had happened. She lost her appetite. "What did the summoners think?"

"I'm not sure. According to my own summoner, the summoner working with Riven couldn't stay connected with her I guess. I don't know of any fine details outside of that," Quinn shrugged slightly. She didn't care for Noxians of any kind, which is why she seemed so nonchalant regarding the situation as a whole. To Quinn, that match was just another loss and nothing more.

"Please excuse me Quinn," Lux bowed her head slightly and held onto the book tightly as she ran down the great hall towards the living quarters of the institute. _Thirteen deaths…THIRTEEN DEATHS!?_ Lux's mind raced while she tried to analyze the situation. The blonde breathed heavily as she approached the Ionian occupied wing of the institute.


	4. Chapter 4: Balance Seeks Opposites

**Author's Note: Thanks so much for the Reviews! I know some people are trying to pick apart the sudden start from the first chapter but as I stated earlier I promise that things will soon come to light :) I'm doing my best to keep the characters well... in character. Riven and Irelia's back stories are fun to work with. **

**This chapter was a little shorter than I wanted but at the same time the event line wouldn't allow me to extend it without adding unnecessary filler which can mess with the flow of a story. The next chapter, however, will be longer. That much is for certain.**

**Please feel free to express your thoughts on the story thus far. Reviews and feed back is a way to keep me writing. Enjoy :3**

* * *

Chapter 4: Balance Seeks Opposites

A calm breeze softly danced through the gardens causing all manners of vegetation to sway. The gentle trickling sound of water complemented the serenity of its peaceful surroundings as it flowed to a decently sized pond at the center of the gardens. Brightly colored fish of various shapes and sizes lazily wiggled just below the water's surface throughout the pond. The fish would swiftly scatter when flower pedals disturbed the surface of the pond as the breeze blew them loose from the trees.

A woman sat quietly near the water's edge. The weapon consisting of four blades silently bobbed in the air at its master's side. Her long onyx hair gently swayed with the breeze as she drew in a deep breath through her nose. Irelia's slender form remained completely still as she held her breath for a short moment then exhaled just as slow and relaxed like she had inhaled. A soft smile pulled at her corners of her lips. She enjoyed the peace and tranquility she can achieve here but it could never compare to how she feels back in her homeland of Ionia.

The resting blades of the weapon began to quiver slightly as a figure approached Irelia.

"Hm?" she opened her jade eyes and turned her head to acknowledge the approaching person. "Ah, Lee Sin," she smiled as the monk bowed his head and sat down next to the captain of the guard.

"Good afternoon captain," the monk smiled. His voice was deep, calm, soothing and riddled with wisdom. It had been awhile since the two Ionians could sit down and converse in a peaceful setting that didn't involve the Fields of Justice.

"No need for formalities, Lee. You're my friend, not one of my subordinates," Irelia said as she looked back out over the pond. There was a quiet pause between Irelia and her company.

"What misgivings plague your thoughts Irelia?" Lee Sin asked with a calm and neutral tone. The monk may be blind physically, but when it came down to one's thoughts and feelings he was far from it.

Irelia's eyes shifted down to her lap as she tried to come up with an answer for Lee. She knew she had been caught about her troubled thoughts and she couldn't lie to him, not because she couldn't physically lie but more so it was impossible to lie to Lee Sin. The captain took a deep breath and sighed before answering to Lee, "I fear someone I care about is deteriorating before my very eyes and there is nothing I can do to help them. I almost feel helpless."

Lee Sin's expression remained neutral as there was another brief moment of silence between them both. "I assume this regards your Noxian friend, yes? What do you mean by deteriorate young one?"

"She see's things no one else can. She hears things that are not there. She fights things one cannot purge. She is at war with the ghosts of the past… and I fear she is losing," Irelia's voice cracked slightly. There was no hiding it; she really did care about Riven's wellbeing. No one, Noxian or not, deserved to suffer from the sickening consumption of hungering madness. "How can you fight that which is not real…?"

"Have you called an exorcist?" the monk chuckled slightly in an attempt to get a smile of Irelia; it worked. "All jokes aside this is no laughing manner. Have you tried talking to Riven about this?"

Irelia nodded slightly, "I have tried but she refuses to talk or answer a question. She pushes away the ones that want to help. There is no middle ground to be met—"

"Balance seeks opposites," Lee interrupted, "Be persistent, yet patient. In time your friend will realize that more can be accomplished with help. You need to find the balance between both. Too much persistence may push her further away. Too much patients and she may lose herself completely. The middle ground is the missing balance that can be achieved."

The female warrior sighed and acknowledged the wise monk for his words. She thought about the first time she realized Riven wasn't entirely there. It was long ago. Long before either of them would have thought of facing one another again within the league.

_It had been months after Noxus had retreated from Ionian shores. A glum and grey sky loomed solemnly over The Placidium as if the very land itself was still mourning over the casualties of its people. Tired Ionian civilians and warriors alike drug their feet through the streets further expressing the exhaustion the people suffered. A younger Irelia could feel the low spirits of her people as she walked towards a guard's post. The sound of a wood crate breaking down an alleyway caught her attention._

_A hooded figure wearing a long brown cloak slowly stood up from the ground in the alleyway. Irelia quietly watched the figure get up. 'Likely from the southern territories and homeless,' she thought before realizing the language the figure spoke was not that of her own. Noxian. _

_The Captain of the Guard clenched her teeth as she swiftly approached the hooded figure. She could feel her blades quiver as if reflecting the anger that burned deep in her heart._

_The figure turned and backed up against the wall as they felt the tips of the blades touch their neck. The hood had fallen back from the sudden movement._

_Irelia's jade eyes narrowed from anger as she looked at the tired crimson eyes that stared back at hers. She knew who it was, a Commander that was a heartless monster responsible for slaughtering many of her people in cold blood. Riven. _

_However, something was different. Irelia could see the pain reflected in the eyes of her enemy. The internal torture written all over the Noxian Commanders face._

_ "__Do it," Riven spat. "End me if you even have the guts to, 'Captain.' Spill my blood like that weapon of yours so strongly desires to. Stain your hands further as I've done to mine."_

_Irelia's onyx eyebrows pulled together as she stared Riven down. Was that fear in her eyes? Irelia jumped back slightly as the fair-haired Noxian ripped herself away from her and growled painfully as her hands grabbed fistfuls of alabaster locks. _

_ "__Stop it!" she pleaded, "The screaming… The begging…Leave me alone!" Riven exerted a loud yell as she slammed her fists onto the ground. "I'll kill you! I'll do it with a smile on my face you traitorous bastards!"_

_Irelia could only watch the Noxian. Her eyes shifted to the broken sword that lay only feet away from the commander. Irelia's brow furrowed as she looked back at the grounded soldier. "Spilling your blood won't bring back the dead. There is no honor in slaughtering a warrior with a shattered mind. Fate has already determined your punishment. I shall not interfere. Suffer in pieces, 'Commander' Riven."_

Irelia felt a lump in her throat as she recalled the first time she'd ever met the now exiled Noxian. The cold, vengeful words she used. It was upsetting, but nothing could compare to that face. That face full of pain and anguish that pleaded for help burned into Irelia's mind. There was a time Riven wanted and needed help but she was denied.

_Back when you hated me…_

Riven's words from earlier echoed through her thoughts. _I was blinded by vengeance and anger… _Irelia's guilty thoughts plagued her.

_You know nothing of the word._

Irelia sat quietly while Riven's words tugged hard at her heartstrings. _I know regret…I've lived with the regret of wishing you to suffer…No one deserves to suffer like that._

"You know what to do," Lee Sin smiled as he got Irelia's attention once more. The blind monk took a deep breath. "We have company."

Irelia cocked an eyebrow before turning around only to see an exhausted and panting Lux. "Oh my," Irelia said as she got up from the ground and half jogged over to the heaving Demacian. "Lux? Are you alright?"

Lux tried to speak but waved her hand as she attempted to catch her breath. The blonde just wanted to sit down for the time being.

"Lee do you mind getting Lux some water?" Irelia called out to her friend.

The blind monk nodded and stood up to get something to drink for the exhausted light mage. Lee Sin shortly returned with water to help Lux recover her ability to speak.

"I…figured…it…out," she gasped as she took a drink and cleared her throat after. Lux began to take deep breaths to calm her breathing before she continued to talk. "I did some reading and I think I've figured out how we can help Riven, but first I need to tell you that she may have gotten hurt in a match today."

Irelia's eyes grew sick with worry. "What do you mean she got hurt in a match? How is that even possible?"

Lux took a couple more deep breaths before she spoke again, "I was told by Quinn that Riven and her summoner were bouncing in and out of connection and it caused her to die way more than a champion should. She could be hurt from that; I mean they almost forcibly stopped the match because of it."

Irelia was silent as she listened to the blonde talk. "We need to go to the infirmary," Irelia finally mumbled as she stood up, pulling Lux up with her. "You can fill me in on what you read after we get there." The Ionian turned her attention to Lee Sin who stood nearby. "Lee, let's speak again real soon," Irelia bowed to the monk and started to half pull the Demacian along with her as they walked towards the exit of the garden.

"Thanks for the water, Lee!" The light mage waved her arm as Irelia continued to half drag her away.

Lee Sin simply smiled and raised his forearm to bid farewell to Lux and Irelia. The blind monk stood there quietly as he listened to the footsteps of the champions he was just with fading. A gentle breeze rustled Lee's clothing and his long braid swayed slightly. _What truly plagues your thoughts and mind, Irelia? Is that worry or regret that drives you to care… or do I sense longing that dwells in your heart? I guess only time will tell. How the tides have turned in time._


	5. Chapter 5: Confrontation

**Authors Note: Oh my god I feel so slow with this update... SORRY! Feral Flare Irelia jungle has been consuming my soul... (that and tumblr...)**

**Anyways thanks to everyone giving this story a shot. My whole intention was to put Riven in a new light and I'm pleased to see in the Reviews that people are picking up on this. I'm also not trying to rush I'm really not. x.x **

**Reviews both kind and critical are always welcome!**

* * *

Chapter 5: Confrontation

The halls of the Ionian occupied wing of the institute were nothing short of breathtaking. The decor mirrored that of classic Ionian art and architecture. Etched dragons laced with gold coiled around the jade pillars of the hallway. A large banner baring the Twin Dragons crest of Ionia hung proud in the center of the hall. There was a method to the institute's madness when it came to investing in its living quarters. A comfortable champion was a powerful champion so making them feel at home was essential.

The infirmary for the institute was located within a wing next to the Ionian living quarters. Despite the Ionian occupants being in charge of the infirmary, the institute found it in the best interest of the champions and summoners to separate it from the Ionian wing.

"I feel like I'm in Ionia itself whenever I come to visit you here," Lux smiled as she took in the setting.

Irelia continued to half drag the blonde down the hallway. "A clone could never replace the original," Irelia replied and tugged Lux along a bit faster. "What did you find out?"

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder…" Lux spoke in a serious tone.

The once impatient and rushed Ionian stopped after Lux answered her question. Lux speaking in such a tone was almost alien due to her, sometimes overwhelming, positivity and outgoing nature. This put Irelia on edge. "What do you mean _Disorder_?"

The Demacian quietly opened the book Diana had kindly let her borrow earlier that day and flipped to the page she had marked. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a developed mental disease caused by an extremely traumatic or multiple traumatic events. This disease can affect anyone but is predominantly present in soldiers and war veterans," the light mage read directly from the old tome. Lux looked up at Irelia from the book. "Remember when you told me about your guardsmen who were terrorized after cleaning up? Tell me how they acted when they got back."

Irelia frowned slightly. She didn't feel comfortable disclosing information others liked to keep behind closed doors. "I'd rather not discuss the private matters of others, Lux. No disrespect intended; I know your intensions are good," Irelia replied calmly.

"Fine, then make a mental comparison. Common symptoms of PTSD include, but aren't limited to, intrusive realistic flashbacks, nightmares, restlessness, distress, hypervigilance, irritability and outbursts of anger. There are also other symptoms like self-blame and guilt. Take the stress that your guards suffered from and multiply it tenfold and that's what Riven suffers from." The blonde shook her head. "The only reason I believe Riven's case is so bad is because if someone suffers from trauma and combat stress that's left untreated it only gets worse for the person to handle. Riven's 'self-imposed' exile and separation from people may have done more harm than good."

The onyx haired champion closed her eyes and frowned. The things Lux described from the book did match some of her guard's behaviors over the years. This only troubled her further.

Lux lightly pounded her fist onto the open book she held with a look of determination taking over her features. "We must intervene, Ire. We cannot allow Riven to push us away any longer. She is not allowed to fight this battle alone anymore!" The blonde puffed out her chest trying to look tough as she spoke. "I will hold her down until she talks! Well…until she picks me up and puts me aside of coarse…" Lux sighed knowing she could never over power Riven.

Irelia couldn't help but chuckle trying to imagine the little light mage attempting to hold Riven down. The Noxian warrior could easily take Lux out unless the Demacian used her magic. "I believe in you, Lux," Irelia laughed.

"Ha!" Lux closed the book and posed heroically with her hands on her hips. "Let Operation: Confrontation commence! I'll show _YOU_ conviction, poster-child!" Lux announced as she proudly marched down the hallway towards the infirmary.

Irelia shook her head slightly with a smile on her face as she followed the Demacian down the hall. _You're such a dork Luxanna but this is why we are friends._

* * *

"Let me leave! I'm fine," the irritated Noxian exclaimed. "You can't keep me here against my will!"

"Oh, yes I can, and I will until you calm yourself down Riven," the starchild firmly replied. "I suggest you make yourself comfortable until you've been debriefed as to what happened in that match today."

"This is bullshit…" the platinum haired woman mumbled under her breath and crossed her arms.

"What was that?"

"Nothing…"

"That's what I thought," Soraka replied while she flipped through Riven's health records they kept since she was inducted into the league. Every champion had one. If they so much as suffered a scratch within a league match that didn't heal after the match ended it was recorded. It was a way to make sure that the resurrection magic was still functioning properly. Of course, with all spells come side-effects like fatigue and sometimes sore bodies, but nothing too intense or serious. "So, let's start from the beginning," Soraka sat down in a chair next to the bed where the exile sat. "Who was your summoner?"

The Noxian grumbled slightly, "Can't you just stab me with some medication or something to make the pain manageable so I can go? Please?" There weren't very many things that Riven disliked more than talking about her problems with others. It was just a burden on someone else.

"This isn't the military, Riven. We don't just stab a wounded solider with pain killers and throw them back out onto the frontline," Soraka frowned as she looked up at the ex-solider from the record.

"This problem is my _own_."

"Who was your summoner?"

"By the gods you Ionians are so damn persistent! Did anyone _ever _teach you to leave a person be if they don't want to talk?" Riven was growing annoyed and angry. She was tired of all the help that people were practically forcing upon her. Riven ran her hand through her hair to alleviate some built up frustration. "I don't need my hand held; I've been this way for a long time and I'm fine."

The starchild's eyes narrowed as she stared down the exile. Before Soraka could reply there was a knock at the door. The celestial being quietly set Riven's file down and got up to answer the door. Soraka opened the door to find both Lux and Irelia outside. The starchild stepped aside allowing the other champions access to the room.

The Noxian let out an over-exaggerated groan and threw herself back on the bed realizing who was visiting. "_OY VEY IST MIR!_" The solider turned her back to the visitors and let out a large sigh.

The starchild crossed her arms and shook her head slightly, "Oh woe is you indeed, Riven. You have visitors."

Lux laughed which caused Riven to twitch. _That…laugh….ugh_, the Noxian shuddered as the room became way more crowded then she would ever feel comfortable in. "Why are you two _here?_" she grumbled.

"Anger; the forefront of coping mechanisms for PTSD. It is nothing more than a defense for the illness to hide behind, that isn't going to work anymore Riven," the blonde stated.

"PTS-what?" the Noxian sat up and turned to look at the many pairs of eyes that were looking at her. This made her feel far beyond uncomfortable. Riven diverted her eyes away from the, to her what seemed like, crowd of people.

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," the Ionian healer replied.

Lux half gasped when Soraka answered for her, "You know of it Ms. Soraka?" The blonde turned her attention to the other-worldly looking Ionian. There was a sparkle in the blue irises as she waited eagerly for the healer to reply.

"Yes, I know of it. Plenty of Ionian citizens and soldiers suffer from the condition back in Ionia after the Noxian invasion. However, I can't help but ask why you bring up such a condition now Lady Crownguard," Soraka said as she looked at the blonde Demacian.

"Yes, please do share Luxanna."

Everyone turned their attention to the new voice of the conversation. High Councilor Vessaria Kolminye stood in the doorway along with the summoner that was responsible for Riven in the match that took place earlier that day.

"High Councilor Kolminye, for what do we owe the pleasure of your presence here?" Irelia asked a little surprised to see one of the institute's leaders at the infirmary of all places.

"Well, when a league sanctioned match is almost forcibly brought to an end because a champion's wellbeing has been put in danger due to summoning issues it only seems right to become involved in such conflict, wouldn't you agree Will of the Blades?" Kolminye was straight forward and clearly was taking this situation regarding the connection issues between champion and summoner seriously. "Soraka, have you been able to figure out why this might have occurred?"

Before Soraka could speak Lux put up her hand. "All respect intended High Councilor, I don't think Soraka has spent enough time around Riven to understand why this may have happened," the Demacian explained. "I know I am no health professional and Soraka is way more qualified to speak about Riven's health over me but as I stated before I don't believe Soraka has been around Riven as much as Irelia and I have in the recent months."

Kolminye nodded slightly, acknowledging Lux's statement and gestured her to continue. "I am listening Luxanna, do explain your thoughts to us."

The light mage nodded slightly and took a deep breath as she mentally prepared her explanation for everyone to hear. "Riven was a Noxian field Commander, we all know this, but what people don't understand is the mental anguish that war can leave behind in a person's mind. Based on Irelia's direct experience with Riven's behavior and her testimony and maybe the experience Layne had today, we can come to conclusion that Riven has a mental illness that develops in returning soldiers. This could be what is effecting Riven's mental connection with a summoner."

"This is absurd. If I had a real serious problem the League would have seen it when I was inducted," Riven grumbled. "We've all faced _judgment_, and we all know the Institute turns away those they find un-fit to function as a champion within the League."

The room grew quiet as all the present champions and summoners thought over Riven's response to Lux's thoughts and theory. The silence was broken by the High Councilor. "This is true. If Riven was, indeed, deemed un-fit to serve as a champion of the League, she would have been turned away upon judgment day. This is also the first problem to arise between Riven and her summoner when it comes to the mental connection both summoner and champion share," Kolminye stated. Most of the present champions and summoner nodded their heads in agreement with the Noxian and the High Councilor. "There isn't enough evidence here to prove that Riven suffers a true problem."

The blonde Demacian shook her head. "You're all overlooking a problem that hides in plain sight. We can talk about judgment as the supreme determining factor of finding the fit from the frail when it comes to becoming a champion, but we all seem to forget what the judgment really does. Depending on what event the Institute chose to judge Riven upon could have been a big red-flag that was over looked by everyone because it seemed traumatic enough that it would shake the mental core of the champion therefore 'judging' the mental compatibility of the bond required between champion and summoner. If the League chose a traumatic event and forced Riven to 're-live' the event through judgment then really Riven's mind was already doing that on its own therefore the judged was numb to the actual judgment because the mind was already used to experiencing that particular event over and over again on its own terms. That's what PTSD does! It invades the mind with traumatic triggers that force the person to re-live their trauma and causes them to physically react because it feels so real!"

Silence returned to the room. Every defense that Riven could possibly think of was being picked apart by Lux. The Noxian warrior was starting to feel on edge. She did not like how this was playing out. If she was deemed mentally un-fit to serve as a champion the Institute wouldn't hesitate to discharge her from service. The Institute was her home now. If she was discharged she'd be back out wandering Valoran once more seeking atonement which she felt could be found at the League. Riven closed her eyes and sighed resting her face in her hands.

"So, what you mean to tell me Ms. Crownguard is we might have a champion that hid a mental condition from the Institute that is now possibly affecting the bridge between champion and summoner required to serve within a League match? You do understand that this is a serious matter that can lead to discharging Riven from the League of Legends. We are a political entity charged with keeping peace between city-states and protecting all of Valoran from falling apart at its core. We are not a charity. Discharging one champion from the Institute to uphold the values and purpose this establishment was created to enforce and protect will be done without hesitation. Do I make myself clear?" High Councilor Kolminye was not pleased with the outcome of her visit to the infirmary. Everyone could hear it in her tone. Deception was an unacceptable behavior when it came to the mutual respect that all champions were to share with the Institute of War.

"There is a way to solve this conflict without anyone losing their status as a champion or affecting the values of the League," Soraka spoke after she noticed how stressed out the Noxian looked. If they continued to stress the exile, her symptoms would surly show their colors and Soraka realized this.

Kolminye directed her attention to the much respected Ionian healer and un-crossed her arms.

Riven looked up from her hands when Soraka responded to Kolminye's little speech. She felt slightly guilty with the way she had talked to the starchild before the crowd showed up. The snowy-haired Noxian thought for sure Soraka wouldn't want to help her after she had been rude to the healer.

"Please, explain your proposal to bring this conflict to rest, Soraka. I, for one, respect your words," the High Councilor said as she waited for the Ionian to reply.

"I've personally worked with plenty of Ionian citizens and warriors that suffer from PTSD because of the Noxian invasion. We are a Nation that seeks enlightenment and inner peace with one's self which also can help the infected function and live with their trauma induced stress. Truth be told because of how common traumatic stress is within our own population we have developed methods for those who suffer from the mental anguish of trauma to cope with their symptoms and learn how to become mentally stronger and functional within society once more. I suggest we send Riven to Ionia and have her educated in how to properly handle her damaged mental state." Soraka smiled slightly as the High Councilor seemed to accept the proposed offer.

Riven was almost shaking with anticipation while waiting for the High Councilor's response. As much as she didn't want to return to Ionia if it meant saving her status as a champion and potentially her home she was willing to set aside her stubbornness for the time being. She would be a fool to refuse the chance to save herself from herself. Her eyes shifted to Irelia who stood next to Lux. The captain of the guard looked worried about the potential outcome of Kolminye's decision. The Noxian's snowy eye brows pulled together while she watched the dark-haired Ionian warrior. _Why do you of all people look just a worried as I feel? This doesn't directly affect you at all…_ Riven's thoughts were interrupted when she finally heard the High Councilor speak.

"You've convinced me to overlook what has happened here, Soraka. If you believe that Riven can be helped and taught how to control and cope with her mental problem then I leave her in the capable hands of the Ionian's for now. The Exile is here by suspended from service to the League of Legends for three weeks on medical leave. However, if this problem persists after returning to service the Institute will not hesitate to discharge Riven the Exile from service to the League permanently and reprimand all repeals regarding the discharge." The High Counselor's full attention turned to Riven. "I highly suggest you take this opportunity seriously Riven, your future as a champion hangs in the balance. Do you understand my command?"

The Noxian champion nodded respectfully, "Yes, High Councilor Kolminye, I understand the terms of your command."

Kolminye smiled, "Good, I suggest you prepare yourself Riven. Your suspension is effective tomorrow." The High Councilor turned to leave the room with Layne following suit.

A great weight seemed to lift from the air within the room as the High Councilor left. Riven sighed in relief as she lay back down onto the bed. _Gods be praised…_

Both Lux and Irelia were glad that potential confrontation didn't go horribly wrong. The presence of Kolminye was certainly unexpected by everyone.

"Alright, now that we have established the terms of the High Councilor's orders, I will be laying down some base rules myself as well," Soraka said while she wrote notes inside Riven's medical file. "First things first, you are not permitted to take your rune sword with you to Ionia."

"Like hell I won't," Riven replied in a stern tone. "It's coming with me."

"Riven…this is the only chance you have to prove you're alright. Please just accept Soraka's terms," Irelia frowned.

The Exile grumbled as the Ionian healer continued to explain why she wasn't allowed to have her blade.

"This is also a reversal of the PTSD symptom of attachment and detachment. You're attached to your broken blade Riven. You over rely on it to function as a person. It is also a direct link to your war trauma. By detaching you from the blade, it should help your symptoms. We are also reversing your detachment from people. This will help you learn to cope with your hypervigilance as you come to realize that no one is out to get you." Soraka smiled. "You will also dress like a neutral standard citizen of Valoran. Nothing you ware will attach you to your Noxian heritage."

Lux beamed in excitement when Soraka mentioned the change required for Riven's wardrobe. "SHOPPING!" she squealed with glee.

The exile smacked a pillow down over her own face to express her dismay. Shopping with Lux sounded nothing short of _awful._ "Kill me now," her words were muffled from the pillow.

"Hey!" Lux whined.

Irelia laughed thinking about the Demacian dragging Riven around the various clothing stores located in town just outside the Institute. Her attention turned to Soraka when she was addressed.

"I will speak with the High Councilor about putting you on leave as well Irelia. We need to keep in mind that Riven is no stranger to the Ionian people. I believe it is in our best interest to have you accompany Riven during this trip. It will help ease the minds of our own citizens knowing that the Captain of the Guard is responsible for our Noxian guest," Soraka said while she put Riven's file away. "The Festival of Fire will be taking place within the third week of Riven's suspension. This will be a good way to test the progression of her ability to cope in a crowded and potentially stressful atmosphere."

"I cannot deny the idea of being able to go home," Irelia smiled as her attention turned to the giggling Demacian who sat on the edge of the exile's bed.

"We are going to have so much fun tomorrow!" Lux squeaked as she poked at the squirming Noxian holding the pillow over her head.

Both Ionian champions chuckled as they watched the light mage playfully torture Riven.


	6. Chapter 6: Stone Cold

**Author Notes: I'm tired. Also I need to make this as clear as possible, ****Chapter 7: Soul of Iron, Spirit of Stone may take a couple weeks to release while I figure out family issues. I promise I won't vanish.** I got a call today regarding my grandfather's poor health...

**I do hope people are enjoying this. I know I can't please everyone but I do what I can. Feel free to drop a review if you want; all are welcome. **

**Enjoy**

* * *

Chapter 6: Stone Cold

_You cannot escape me._

Riven's eyes shot open to find nothing but the white ceiling of the infirmary. The warrior's muscles laid still in aching rebellion as if ignoring Riven's mind commanding them to move. The platinum haired Noxian sighed and decided to lay there for a few moments longer. Riven feigned sleep; closing her eyes once more as she heard the door knob to her room start to turn.

"Oh, she's still asleep," a hushed female voice could be heard from the doorway.

"We should let her rest. She needs it after yesterday's events," the person accompanying the first speaker replied. "It's best we not disturb what symptomless sleep she can get."

Riven figured it was Lux and Irelia. Her suspicions were only confirmed when she heard the slight pouting behind the Demacian's voice.

"I only get her for one day before you both leave and now I have to wait," the light mage sighed.

"I know you're both there," Riven said flatly without opening her eyes.

"Crap, we woke her up," Lux whispered.

Irelia sighed and stood up straight. "Well no need to whisper anymore if she's already awake Lux," the Ionian yawned and stretched her arms.

Riven didn't bother to move knowing that soon Lux was going to be dragging her around shopping for clothing. Riven's mind cut out the small chatter between the other two champions and wandered back to the events of the day before. A question was tugging at her mind that she felt needed to be asked. "Lux, do you mind giving Irelia and me a moment alone? I promise if you just give me this little bit of time I will be ready to leave with you after okay?"

"She's all yours! You got a deal Riv!" Lux exclaimed gleefully while shoving the surprised Ionian captain into the room and shutting the door.

"H-Hey!" Irelia stammered when Lux half slammed the door from excitement. The Ionian's jade eyes slowly shifted over to meet a piercing crimson stare.

Riven's eyes narrowed. "You're tired," she said in a firm tone.

"I'm fin—"

"Don't lie," the Noxian interrupted. "You're exhausted; I can see it in your eyes and its written all over your body language."

Irelia's gaze shifted away from Riven's. She knew the exile could tell she was drained. "Don't worry about it…"

"Trust me; I'm not," Riven replied plainly. "What I want to know is why all of a sudden you have an interest in my life and problems. You of all people should be the last person to give a shit about the wellbeing of a Noxian Commander that murdered your countrymen."

The un-prepared Ionian flinched slightly from the brutal and blunt honesty behind Riven's voice. She felt her eyes shift to the floor. She couldn't find the answer the exile sought so she chose to remain silent. The Ionian warrior's mouth pressed into a firm line and she walked over to Riven's bedside. She quietly placed a roll of bandages and her medicine tin onto the nightstand and turned her back to the exile and walked back to the door. "This isn't about me," the captain's tone was cold. "So worry about yourself if you are even capable of doing so before questioning the actions of others." With those final words the Will of the Blades opened the door without so much as looking back at the semi-shocked Noxian and stepped out into the hall. She immediately closed the door.

"Oh, you're leaving…so…soon?" Lux blinked a couple times as the Ionian champion pushed passed the blonde, completely ignoring her. _Oh my…_ the Demacian thought. Lux quietly watched Irelia stalk off down the hallway. The four blades followed in close pursuit. The light mage hesitated slightly as her slender fingers wrapped around the door knob to Riven's room.

She paused for a moment while she attempted to emotionally adjust to the somewhat _awkward_ situation she just found herself in. _Please don't be in a bad mood…Please don't be in a bad mood, _the blonde repeated to herself as she opened the door. Lux squeezed her eyes shut as she braced herself for a barrage of yelling only to be greeted by complete silence. The light mage peeked through one eye after the initial wave of silence she didn't expect passed by. The Demacian allowed her defensively tense muscles to relax as she stood up straight and adjusted her uniform.

The Noxian exile was sitting up in bed and held a distant gaze with the wall across from her. Her legs were bent and pulled up towards her chest under the covers with her forearms rested upon her knees. Riven's fingers mindlessly fiddled with the small circular medicine tin, weaving and turning the container between the joints of the soldier's battle hardened hands. She showed no interest the presence of another person being in her company.

_Well this is awkward_, Lux thought as her body weight shifted and rolled between the balls of her feet and her heels. She pulled her arms behind her back while her body weight continued its nervous shifting. Her mind shuffled through ways on how to end the silence in the room. For once, the Demacian was lost for words. _Awkward! So very awkward! _Her mind screamed as she started to hum quietly to herself to try and get comfortable in the dense silence. Lux expelled a huge sigh of relief when Riven's voice broke the silence.

"You're all making a huge mistake sending me to Ionia," Riven said calmly. She didn't bother looking at Lux. "I hope you're all prepared for what lies ahead of us. My entire future has been compromised by the meddling of others," her tone was stone cold.

The light mage held her ground, "Is that what Noxus teaches its people how to describe help? As meddling—"

"You don't know me, Crownguard," Riven snapped. "Neither does Irelia, so stop acting like you have the right to know if something is wrong with me or not! I didn't come seeking your help and quite honestly I didn't want it! You never knew the real Riven and you never will. Neither of you will _EVER_ understand me nor how I feel."

Lux's attempt to keep a strong composure faltered. She always seemed to find herself on the receiving end of Riven's anger and frustration. It was starting to weigh on Lux. Her voice cracked, "I know how it feels to be a soldier. I know how it feels to lose comrades and loved ones. The only difference I see is the battle standard of service under which we stand…" The light mage could feel herself shaking as she tried to fight back the tears. What that fear she felt? She jumped slightly as Riven roared in anger and ripped off the covers so she could stand.

"_You_ and _I _are far from the same! You will _never _understand me or my thoughts just from reading a book! I lost everything that day! My soldiers, my honor, my dignity and according to you my mind! I lost my home, one of which I _loved_ and _served _with my entire existence, and I'll be damned if I am to lose a place I can finally call home once again because of you!" Riven was livid. The larger of the two women stood a whole head and shoulders taller than the Demacian. "I don't know what the bigger burden is, my past or you and Irelia," the exile growled. Riven felt the wind get semi-knocked out of her as two hands hit her chest and pushed her back slightly. It must have taken the combination of all the strength Lux could muster and Riven not being prepared for the sudden physical contact of the shove itself.

The pair of blue irises burned with anger behind the tears that had welled up in front of them. The light mage's entire being shook as she stared down the Noxian who was trying to recover her breath. "I lost my home before to, Riven, and a family with it," Lux choked out a response through her tears. "P-Pardon me, for trying to help someone I thought could change. Maybe you've been right this whole time and there isn't anything wrong with you. Maybe you're just as cold as the mindless weapon Noxus forged you to be!" Lux couldn't hold back the tears any longer as she brought her hands up to swiftly wipe them from her eyes and cheeks as she turned and left the room with haste.

The exile felt floored by the Demacian's reaction. Her crimson eyes took in the emptiness of the room. Riven sighed deeply and rubbed her temples with her fingers. _What purpose…does this internal anger…truly serve me…?_ The Noxian shook her head slightly and collected what little belongings she had in the infirmary. "Why did I live…?" she whispered to herself.

_Because, you ran. Only cowards survive._

Riven flinched as a large armored boot stepped onto the floor. Her eyes shifted to the dark nightmare that haunted her for so long. The Noxian could feel the anxiety start to kick in. "Get…away from me," she warned. "You're not real," Riven hissed as she subconsciously felt herself start to back away.

_I'm as real as the blood that flows through your veins, the air that you breathe, the ground that you walk, and the ideals you once believed._

The shadowy figure only took steps closer. The armor it wore was easy to match its faction.

Riven continued to back away until the backs of her knees met the side of the bed causing her to collapse backwards onto the plush surface. She sat up quickly and stared up at the looming shadow whose face was still hidden behind the dark iron helmet and hood. This is how it always was, looking up at it; always defeated. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away when the figure leaned in close to Riven; its metal hidden face only inches from her ear.

_I own you._

Her eyes flew open and she turned her head back forward only to be met by the room's emptiness once more. Riven's shoulders heaved from her heavy breathing and small beads of sweat had begun to form above her brow. She quickly wiped the sweat away and stood up from the bed while fighting her body for control so she could calm herself. Riven grabbed her things and walked to the door still slightly shaken up. Her right hand mindlessly grabbed at the air; _M-My sword…_Riven quickly walked towards the main hall of the Institute.

It wasn't long before she found herself half jogging towards the living quarters for independent champions that didn't claim loyalty toward a specific city-state. Riven stopped and furiously turned as a hand grabbed her shoulder. She grumbled seeing who the hand belonged to.

"So…Riven," he smugly cooed, "Draven has figured out why you're so crazy."

Riven's expression held that of stern annoyance and a hint of disgust. One frosty eyebrow rose slightly.

Draven cleared his throat, hand still firm on Riven's shoulder. "Draven gets this a lot and sees it a lot to," Draven leaned close to Riven. "You're crazy for Drav— The Glorious Executioner choked slightly as a hand gripped his throat tightly.

Riven's blazing glare showed no sign of mercy as she held the gagging Noxian by the neck. She pulled Draven's face closer to her own. "Screw…off," she growled and shoved the man away.

Draven stumbled backwards and slammed against the wall coughing and holding his throat as he slid down the wall to sit down.

"Pffft!" the champion with long blue braids and decorated with guns and ammo tried to hold back a laugh. "Ladies man he claims!" Jinx threw herself on the floor and rolled around laughing like a crazed maniac and kicking her legs in the process.

Riven scowled and turned her back to the two champions who probably had more mental issues than she did and walked away, hearing the maniacal laughing echo down the hall.

Upon reaching her room the exile shoved her hand into one of the leather pouches attached to her belt and dug around for the key. She finally found the key, unlocked the door and swung it open. There, hanging from the wrack on the wall was the broken rune blade. Riven sighed in relief and walked over to the blade. The single viridian rune glowed a little brighter as its master approached it.

"I've returned…" She touched the rune of the blade softly to get a lively flicker in return.

* * *

It had grown dark upon the Institute as night engulfed the land. A single blade from the set of four swiftly cut through the air, mimicking the path of its master's arm as it swung. The enchanted steel continued to move with Irelia's fluid motions. Each strike was smooth and efficient as the blades would separate and re-join once again showing no sign of hesitation or mercy if the steel were striking down an opponent.

_What I want to know is why all of a sudden you have an interest in my life and problems._

Irelia tried to ignore the statement Riven made earlier in the infirmary but to no avail; it disrupted her concentration. Why did she care? Why waste the energy or the time on an individual whose hands dripped with the blood of her people. What troubled Irelia most was not the reasoning behind the sudden interest she had in the Noxian but the almost uncontrollable subconscious internal need to be near the exile.

Irelia shook her head slightly as if attempting to physically dislodge the nagging questions from her mind and remain focused on the task at hand. _This isn't about me…_ her own words rung in her mind. _Is it? _Irelia tilted her head back and released a long and drawn out sigh of slight frustration. The once lively blades came to rest and calmly bobbed at the Ionian's side. Irelia quietly stood in the training hall. Her pointer finger and thumb cupped her chin and she closed her eyes as she thought over the recent months when this _"need" _started to become seemingly noticeable. _What could be the reason…? _Her hand subconsciously touched one of the blades that silently floated at her side.

_Clang!_

Her jade eyes shot open as the event that sparked this whole situation surged through her thoughts. The blades at her side buzzed loudly with power while she physically backed up as if she had been struck by something. _It can't be...That cannot be the reason…_ Irelia quickly turned and left the training room.

The halls of the Institute that buzzed with life in the light hours of the day were soulless as the footsteps of the Ionian captain echoed off the walls. The feint sound of gleeful laughter and song would break the silence every so often as the noise from the bar would travel through the empty halls. Large moonbeams lit the hall through the large windows as Irelia approached the housing section of the league that hosted Champions who claimed service to no one particular city-state.

Irelia walked swiftly down torch lit hall of rooms. Her blades continued to buzz irritably as she stood in front of the door to Riven's room. She balled her right hand into a fist and lifted her arm. She hesitated slightly before she began to pound on the wooden door.

Riven's closed eye-lids twitched slightly as the banging sound on the door disturbed the silence of her room. The exile rolled over to face her back towards the door. Loud noises such as these she tended to ignore thinking it were just her mind playing tricks to disturb her rest. Riven's eyes opened realizing it wasn't her imagination as her door took a second round of beating. _What the hell? _Riven rolled out of bed still feeling the effects of being half asleep. The exile hissed slightly as the warm pads of her feet made contact with the cold surface of the floor. She yawned softly and approached the door while rubbing her eyes. _Who would be here at this ungodly hour… probably another drunk and lost summoner like the last time…_ the exile thought while she grumbled slightly and cursed in her native tongue under her breath as she unlatched the lock and grabbed the handle to open the door.

As soon as the door handle clicked Riven found herself getting pushed back along with the door as the visitor forced themselves into the dim room. "H-Hey! What the hell are you doing!?" The shocked Noxian gasped as she tried to get vision of the perpetrator. Riven's eyes narrowed as she realized who her visitor was. There, standing in the moonlight being cast into the room from the window was non-other than Irelia. "If you're here to scold me again about how I talk to Lux I don't want to hear it," Riven spoke in an irritated tone.

Irelia didn't reply. She simply stood there in the silence. Her attention was not focused on the Noxian at all.

One platinum eye-brow rose slightly as she stared at the silent Ionian visitor. "What are you doing here?" the Noxian asked as she tried to figure out the meaning for this unexpected visit at this hour of the night. Riven grumbled, she was still getting no answers out of the Will of the Blades. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" The now frustrated exile yelled as she walked up and reached out to grab Irelia's shoulder. "Ngh…" Riven pulled her hand back and raised both hands up to show she was unarmed. The all too familiar feeling of that four blade weapon pointing at her throat was un-nerving. What Riven didn't understand is why the weapon master wasn't looking at her. Riven shifted her eyes in an attempt to track the vision path of her, rather aggressive, guest. Riven's eyes narrowed as she realized what Irelia was staring at. The single viridian rune etched within the broken rune stone blade flickered aggressively in the dark.


	7. Chapter 7: More Than a Weapon

**Author's Note: I greatly apologize for how long this took for me to finish... X_X Thank you for your patients and welcome new followers I hope you're all enjoying the story thus far. **

**Between my Grandpa being on his death bed and me trying to distract myself from worry by wrecking Yasuo solo Lanes in league with Riven in ranked (sorry yasuo... you don't beat a good Riven...) this took way longer than I wanted. I will try to figure out a release schedule from now on.**

**Reviews always welcomed. (P.S I changed the chapter title, I'll save the one I used for later)**

* * *

Chapter 7: More Than a Weapon

The overwhelming silence between both Champions only continued to dislodge Riven's nerves. Whether it was anger or confusion causing the mild physical shaking within the exile it mattered not to her. Riven's full focus was on the hovering Ionian weapon acting like a threatening barrier between the Noxian and the Captain of the Guard. The snowy-haired warrior lowered her hands slowly to her sides and took a deep breath. Riven stood her ground showing no sign of fear or intimidation when the blades reacted to her movement and slid closer to the tanned skin of the exile's throat.

"Irelia, I know you can hear me…Talk to me," Riven's voice became calm as she forced her nerves to relax with her inhuman discipline. One wouldn't exactly describe her tone as gentle, even the exile herself would agree with those who found her incapable of such action. Riven's eyes shifted back to the broken blade that was consuming Irelia's full attention. The way the rune was reacting in the presence of the Ionian captain puzzled Riven. The strange behavior of her blade certainly wasn't helping her try to remain in control of her nerves.

The onyx haired Champion remained silent as unmoved, despite Riven's efforts to get answers from her. If Irelia's revelation was correct, there was only one way to prove its worth. The Captain of the Guard continued to drown out the exile with her own thoughts. She took a deep breath and approached the broken Noxian weapon. The Ionian continued to block out Riven's protests, remaining focused on the blade.

"Irelia…Irelia don't!"

The dark-haired woman felt a tight grip take ahold of her wrist, her finger tips just inches from the hilt of the rune blade.

"Don't…" the exile's voice was low and serious.

Irelia's eyes darted from the bandaged hand around her wrist to look at the exile. The Captain couldn't read Riven's expression, the exile's eyes hidden behind the bangs that hung over her face, like a shroud. _Such quick reactions…_ Irelia thought. Her eyes narrowed, "For an arm with a damaged system of nerves your grip is still quite firm."

Riven said nothing.

The determination of the Captain didn't wane as she stared down the Noxian. The grip the exile had around her wrist remained tight. The glowing rune flickered in a way that one would almost consider a taunting pattern. Irelia quickly tried to grab the sword with her free hand. _So fast!_ Irelia's mind yelled as she tried to pull her arm away seeing Riven's hand pulling the blade from its holder. The Ionian quickly commanded her blades to rise up forcing Riven to release Irelia's wrist lest she wished to lose that arm.

The exile quickly backed away with the rune sword held tight in her right hand. Riven was shocked from the sudden attempted assault from Irelia of all people. "Have you lost your mind!? Did the way I spoke to Lux really piss you off this much!?" Riven grit her teeth as she leaned back quickly, the edge of the steel grazing he Noxian's platinum bangs. _Shit! _The exile panicked as the Ionian blades swiftly flipped up from the follow through of the first strike and began to descend downward towards Riven. Rune blade held tight, Riven lowered her stance and shouted as she defensively swung the shattered blade upward to meet the opposing weapon.

_Clang!_

The force between the two colliding weapons caused a short lived spark to shoot from the steel edges. The sound of metallic clashing steel rung loud through the silence of the room as if time had slowed down with how long the _clang _seemed to echo off the walls. The eerie green glow from the single rune of the weapon cast across both their faces as the two warriors locked eyes.

Irelia's concentration broke, the clinking sound of the shaking Ionian steel tapping against the steel edge of the stone rune blade caught Riven's attention.

_Make it stop!_

_It burns!_

_Monster! _

_Murderer!_

_Have mercy! Please!_

Agonizing screams, the begging pleas of men, women and children and the cries of the young and old plagued the Captain's ears. Events of times long lost to the past surged through Irelia's mind. The Ionian's body jolted as she stumbled away from the confused Noxian exile.

"H-Hey!" Riven stammered as she tried to wrap her mind around the Ionian's sudden strange behavior. Riven watched the enchanted steel slide from the edge of her blade and start to fall to the floor. The weapon caught itself just before hitting the floor. The blades weakly made their way back to their master's side.

Irelia dropped to her hands and knees, feeling a heavy shudder quake through her entire being. The negative energy felt one hundred times stronger than the first time she crossed blades with the exile. The true power of the shattered weapon was surly suppressed on the fields of justice. One of Irelia's hands found its way to her scalp as she held her head. That weapon was far from normal. There was more to it than just the power provided by the runes and Noxian sorcery it was forged with. The Will of the Blades struggled to think over what had just occurred but one thing was for certain, her head hurt.

Riven slowly bent her knees and set her sword on the floor to her side. The exile put her hands out once more to emphasize the "unarmed" aspect as she cautiously took slow steps towards the Captain. "Irelia? Are you alright?" Riven knelt down onto one knee near the Ionian. The confusion Riven felt certainly showed through her features. The exile hesitated slightly before offering her, _friend_, a hand.

Irelia reacted, semi-slapping her hand away.

The exile retracted her offer and remained quiet. Riven could see the physical vibration in the Captain's hand as it returned to holding Irelia's head. _What happened…?_

Irelia quietly tried to stand up from the cold wood floor. She felt a slight wobble in her knees as she managed to stand. The Captain's body swayed slightly as she walked past the exile towards the door.

Riven frowned as she watched Irelia half stumble towards the door. The Ionian blades that usually held a noble formation were drooping weakly next to their master, the tips nearly dragging on the floor. Riven debated on whether or not she was going to let Irelia leave until the Ionian almost collapsed face first into the doorway. The exiled got up from her knelt position and walked up to the weak Will of the Blades who was using the door frame to lean on. Riven crossed her arms across her chest and stepped into the doorway, effectively blocking Irelia's path. The exiles frown remained as the Captain looked up at her with tired eyes. "I don't really understand what just happened but if you think I'm going to let you leave in this condition at this time of night alone you are sorely mistaken Irelia," Riven's decision was absolute. Despite the institute being a place where people were supposed to be protected and safe, they still had their fair share of incidents; after all, it is a political entity for Valoran.

Irelia hung her head slightly, still using the door frame as a crutch so she could stand. She knew Riven wasn't going to let her leave, she was far too stubborn and Irelia just didn't have the energy to fight it at the moment. The Captain felt the fatigue and the light headedness start to win as she tried to hold herself up from collapsing. "I…don't feel well…" Irelia couldn't fight the fatigue anymore as she felt her eyes close and she began to fall forward. The four blades made a thud when they fell to the floor as Irelia lost consciousness.

"Woah…Easy," Riven gasped slightly surprised as she caught the collapsing Ionian to keep her from falling face first onto the floor. Irelia's body was completely slack as Riven tried to reposition herself to lift the unconscious warrior. Irelia's naturally slender form certainly didn't make her light weight surprising. "Up you go," Riven said as she hooked an arm around the back of Irelia's knees and lifted her up in her arms. The exile sighed deeply as she carried Irelia towards her bed.

_Traitor, _an eerie voice echoed in Riven's mind.

_Silence,_ Riven mentally snapped back at the voice, _my will is my own._ A slight chill ran down her spine from Irelia's soft breathing tickling her neck slightly since her head was rested against Riven's shoulder. The exile carefully laid the unconscious Captain down onto her bed and stood back up straight. Riven quietly turned from the out cold Ionian and walked back to the door way. She knelt down and quietly collected the four blades lying on the floor and stacked them in her arms. To Riven's surprise they were much heavier than she thought as she found herself using both arms to cradle the blades while she carried them back over to their resting master. The weapon was certainly an awkward one as Riven placed the stacked blades onto the nightstand next to the bed.

The Noxian sighed realizing that Irelia was still fully dressed in her Captains armor. Riven had slept in armor once before, it was far from comfortable and she felt sore the next day. The exile nervously ran a hand through her own hair as she tried to figure out how to handle the awkward situation she was about to put herself into. _We are leaving for Ionia tomorrow…sleeping in armor is awful… travelling with a sore body is awful…_ Riven took a deep breath and released a large sigh as she aggressively messed up her hair with her hands trying to figure out what she should do. _I have no cloths to spare…_ Riven thought quietly before looking down at her baggy tee-shirt and shorts she usually wore to bed. The exile grabbed the base of her shirt and hesitated slightly before pulling it off. She usually kept her upper body wrapped for comfort sake and she tossed the shirt next to Irelia. The silence in the room certainly didn't help Riven feel any less awkward as she examined the rather intricate Ionian armor. This wouldn't be the first time she had to remove armor from another person since during the war when soldiers in her unit were unconscious and injured someone had to get them out of their armor to apply first aid. Riven quietly started to pick at the Ionian armor set, looking for the various hooks and clips that kept armor pieces held together. _The way this armor fits to a person is so weird… _Riven grumbled as she tried to accomplish the tedious task of helping Irelia out of her armor. The Noxian threw her hands up triumphantly as she finally managed to figure out how to remove the engraved and figure tight leg armor. The exile sighed in relief seeing Irelia had skin tight long silk pants on under the metal plating.

Riven sat quietly on the end of her bed twiddling her thumbs as she mentally prepared herself to finish the task of removing the Ionian armor from her unconscious guest. The Noxian would be lying to herself if she admitted that she felt completely comfortable doing this. This was far beyond awkward for her. What didn't help ease Riven's mind was that Irelia was actually a very attractive individual, not that Riven thought on that too much even though removing the armor of her attractive unconscious guest felt like a date rape situation. Riven shook her head and turned back around to finish the job. Once the shoulder guards were removed she pulled the red and off-white sleeves down Irelia's arms. Riven's eye twitched slightly as she stared at the last remaining piece, the chest plate. _If she wakes up… I'm dead…_ Riven thought as she pushed an arm between the bed and under the back of Irelia's shoulders then pulled her upper body up from the bed as Riven's other hand frantically searched for the clips. _Oh Gods, PLEASE! Where are the clips, buckles…anything!? WHAT'S UP WITH THIS ARMOR, DAMN!? _Riven sighed in relief as she finally found where the buckles were as she undid them and removed the chest plate.

The sudden warmth that collected in the exile's cheeks as she looked at the almost naked upper body of Irelia certainly surprised Riven, it's not like Riven never saw another woman in her bra before. Despite the burning heat Riven felt plaguing her face she had to admit Irelia was certainly a beautiful person. The Ionian warrior's smooth and flawless skin would make anyone who didn't know any better think that Irelia was a virgin to a battle field but that was not the case at all. She was as much a war veteran as the Noxian exile. Riven turned her attention to her own upper body. Her tan skin littered with scars of many sizes from all manners of weaponry… even chemical burns; a cold reminder of the past. Riven quietly pulled the baggy tee-shirt down over Irelia's upper body to cover her up. The exile quietly pulled the bed sheets over Irelia's body then covered her with the blanket that was made from thick bear fur.

Riven rubbed her eyes slightly before standing up from the bed. What was to come in the morning was something she was too tired to think over at the moment. The exile quietly walked over to the arm chair that sat not too far from the bed. Crossing her arms, Riven tried to make herself comfortable as she sat down on the chair. A few minutes and some adjustments later Riven felt her eyes start to get heavy and soon slumber claimed her.

* * *

The lively chirping of early song birds could be heard outside the window of the exile's room. Gentle and warm morning sun beams bled through the glass panes of the window as the sun began to rise. The sudden light and warmth cast upon Irelia's face caused the Ionian warrior to stir from her rest. Her jade eyes opened slightly only to squint from the sunlight. Irelia blinked slightly as she realized that this wasn't her room. The soft tips from the fur blanket softly tickled her cheek as she sat up realizing where she was. Irelia looked down at her attire and blushed slightly as she noticed her armor had been removed. _What…happened…_ Irelia looked next to the bed to see her weapon moving up from its rested position and her armor neatly placed on the dresser with next to Riven's. Irelia's cheeks grew hot; _I slept in Riven's room!? _Her mind screamed at her as the blush of embarrassment only grew brighter.

Irelia snapped out of her panicked thoughts as she heard a soft snore. The Ionian looked over at the source of the sound. There sitting in the chair, arms crossed across her chest, was Riven. She was still asleep. Irelia noticed that Riven had nothing but her upper chest wrapped to cover her upper body. The Captain of the guard looked down and touched the soft fabric of Riven's shirt that she was now wearing. The thought of a Noxian giving the shirt off their back for an Ionian was certainly enough to make the Will of the Blades smile softly. _Maybe you're a little different deep down after all…_ Irelia chuckled quietly hearing the exile snore softly once more.

Riven stirred slightly hearing the chuckle. The exile opened her eyes immediately realizing the source of the chuckling. She quietly stared at Irelia with a questioning look. Was she laughing because she was shirtless?

"You were snoring Riven," Irelia continued to softly giggle at the exile.

Riven's face flushed and she frowned slightly in embarrassment, "I do not."

"Oh yes; you do. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," Irelia winked and placed a finger over her lips as a symbol of keeping quiet.

The exile grumbled slightly shifting her eyes away from Irelia in an attempt to look tough even though her otherwise tan cheeks were bright red from embarrassment.

Irelia couldn't really help but smile at the situation even though it could have been extremely strange and out of the ordinary. The Captain quietly let her hands grip at the silky bear fur blanket. The décor of the room certainly matched that which would be seen back in Riven's homeland of Noxus. The only thing the room lacked to make it completely Noxian would be the absence of an actual banner baring the crest of Noxus.

"I may be an exile, but that doesn't make me any less Noxian by birth," Riven commented as she watched Irelia take in her surroundings. "I'm sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable at all."

Irelia shook her head slightly. "Not really, in fact I might steal your fur blanket," the Captain teased as she rubbed the silky black bear fur against her cheek still looking at the exile.

A slight smirk pulled at the corner of Riven's mouth. It was small and barely noticeable but Irelia could see it.

The Ionian captain smiled seeing Riven's expression, even if it was an extremely minor form of a smirk it was still something other than a typical serious expression the exile always wore. _Ah, so you are capable of feeling something other than pain and regret. It seems you are more than just a disposed weapon of Noxus; you're human after all. _

"When we leave for Ionia, your sword come with us," Irelia said as her eyes shifted to the sword that still lay on the floor from the previous night. This caught Riven's attention.

"But…Soraka said…"

"I want it to come with us," Irelia's voice was stern. Irelia was determined to figure out why that sword was the way it was. She's felt the effects of Noxian Necromancy before and what she felt last night was no strange feeling to her. There was nothing regarding "simple Noxian sorcery" behind the crafting of that blade and Irelia was going to figure out why that weapon is the way it is, regardless if Riven gave her permission or not.


	8. Chapter8:The Truest Opponent Lies Within

**Author's Note: I am officially sick with a cold... which means more writing ^_^;**

** Enjoy Chapter 8 and thank you all for being understanding about my potential slow updates due to my family situation. Also, I feel I must apologize for the first couple chapters. After reading through them a couple times I feel they are not as capturing as I had hoped so to make up for that I will try my damnedest to be more interesting I promise D;**

**Reviews always welcome**

* * *

Chapter 8: The Truest Opponent Lies Within

Riven stood up from the chair and stretched her tired muscles. A tight pain pulled harshly at her lower back, instantly causing the Noxian to involuntarily hunch over. She groaned slightly, realizing that sleeping in the chair was a terrible idea. In an attempt to rub out some of the tension, Riven's hands found their way to her back and her fingers pressed deep into the knotted tight muscles.

"Are you alright?"

Riven looked up at Irelia who was wearing a guilty frown. The exile forced her body to straighten out. "I'm fine," she lied. _Ugh…my back hurts so bad… _The Noxian admitted to herself. Riven arched her back to try and stretch the tight muscles once more.

Irelia quietly watched Riven stretching out her body. Her jade irises slowly traced along the Noxian's form, examining the strong and toned muscles shifting beneath the sun-kissed skin as Riven moved. The Captain's expression turned oppressively solemn when she noticed the scars, both large and small, that littered the surface of her host's body. They physical exterior of the exile told the story of a difficult life, one filled with struggles and hardships; yet, here she stood, alive and triumphant over the obstacles and risks the price of living cost.

Riven felt a soft chill run up her spine caused by a feeling all too familiar to her, the feeling of being watched. Riven's eyes shifted over to Irelia. One platinum eye-brow arched while she continued to stretch noticing her Ionian guest watching her.

Irelia shook her head slightly, catching herself staring. The Captain of the guard swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The blades of her own weapon became lively as they lifted from their rest and spun around their master. Unlike Riven, Irelia relied on her mind when it came to using her blades. The Ionian Champion gently touched one of her floating blades. A softly smile took hold of her lips as her finger tips softly ghosted over the artistic engravings on the blade. The blades surely represented the pride and attention to detailed craftsmanship in which a blacksmith would spend their whole life perfecting. The weapon was beautiful and regal in comparison to the barbaric rune blade of the exile. Irelia's weapon was one of which a king would proudly display to the people of his nation. Despite its beauty, however, it was still a weapon, a weapon of Noxian legend that was "painted" with the blood of Noxus' kin.

The way the enchanted steel moved around Irelia almost looked like a dance; Riven caught herself watching. The weapon was truly unique, so was its owner. The Will of the Blades was a literal as a title could get.

Irelia's gaze shifted back to Riven once more. She smiled softly meeting the exile's eyes.

The crimson irises quickly turned their attention elsewhere and Riven turned away from Irelia. Riven walked over to the dresser and knelt down to open the drawer that stored her typical attire. Her face was eye level with the Ionian armor pieces resting next to her own shoulder guard. Riven paused as she looked at the Ionian armor plates. "Irelia, there is something I need to do before we depart," Riven said as she stood up with her clothing. The Exile silently began to get dressed and looked at Irelia. "Take your time to get ready, just be sure to lock the door when you leave."

The Ionian Captain nodded in acknowledgment, "Do what you need to Riven, meet me at the gates of the Ionian wing by sundown."

The Noxian acknowledged Irelia's request and picked up her broken rune blade from the floor. The white haired warrior stopped in the doorway for a moment. She turned just enough to look back at Irelia. "I…I hope your strength has recovered," Riven stuttered slightly before walking away.

Irelia looked up from her task only to be greeted by an empty room. The Captain smiled gently, her fingers rubbing against the soft fabric of the cotton shirt the exile lent her. "Thank you," she whispered to the empty space.

* * *

Riven found herself walking faster than usual, as if trying to flee without actually running from something. She could feel her stomach roll slightly but it was not in a way that made her feel as if she had fallen ill. Was it nerves? A warm tickle deep within her chest caused her blood to run hot, leaving behind a tingling sensation in its wake as the warmth rushed through her veins. Riven didn't like this warm and fuzzy behavior her body was forcing her to feel. What troubled the Noxian most was how Irelia always made Riven feel secure with her mental struggles. Despite the negative state of mind Riven had been living in for the past several years, the exile found herself finding the strength to deny and disregard the painful memories and voices when the Ionian was around. She felt almost protective of the Captain from herself, but whatever for? Riven shook her head, a grunt of frustration escaping her lips.

"Riven the Exile!" A voice called out from the crowd.

Riven snapped back to reality hearing her name and…title?

A young man dressed in standard summoner robes stumbled through the crowd of people towards the Noxian. Riven firmly grabbed the young summoner's shoulders, effectively stopping him from crashing into her.

The young summoner looked up at the exile and swallowed hard while trying to catch his breath.

Riven released his shoulders allowing the boy to stand up straight. Riven looked down at the trembling hand extended towards her holding an envelope with her name written in fancy calligraphy and an official seal of the Institute plastered upon the cover.

"H-High Counselor Kolminye seeks an audience with you as soon as possible Champion," the boy stammered nervously.

"Thank you," Riven replied plainly, taking the letter from the summoner. The exile cocked an eye brow as the young man bowed his head quickly and scurried off. _Well… that was rather odd…_ Riven sighed deeply and rubbed the back of her head while looking down at the envelope. _I guess my original task will have to wait for now._

The Noxian changed her direction and made her way towards a special wing of the Institute that was restricted to anyone but summoners. Champions typically weren't allowed to be in this section of the Institute without a "permission slip." Riven scoffed slightly, looking the fancy envelope in her hand as she approached a summoning platform which had posted guards. These guards were something not even she would want to pick a fight with. Battle mages like these were very skilled warriors that are not only ruthless but they also were potent wielders of magic as well. Despite how powerful the guards were, Riven found their presence to be pointless. The only way to even get to the summoner's wing of the Institute was to, well, be summoned there.

The large armored guards crossed their spears as Riven approached the platform. "Champion, what businesses have you here?" One guard's voice echoed from his helmet.

Riven rolled her eyes in annoyance. There was a procedure that needed to be fulfilled every single visit and it comprised of nothing but questions, so Riven just answered them all before they were even asked. "My name is Riven. I bare the Champion title 'The Exile,' provided to me by the Institute of War. I was born under the banner of Noxus but I represent no particular city-state and serve the League of Legends as an individual." Riven held up the envelope that bared the official crest of the Institute of War. "I am being summoned on the official order of High Counselor Vessaria Kolminye, for she seeks an audience with me."

One of the guards took the envelope and removed the contents. The guard unfolded the letter and held it up to a woman standing near the platform. The enchanted chains holding the woman clinked slightly as she looked at the letter. The soft blue glow from her bindings illuminated her surroundings slightly. The imprisoned summoner moved her bound wrists slightly and the guard reacted swiftly, the tip of a spear near the woman's throat. The summoner paid no mind to the threat.

Riven watched the summoner read over the form. The silver eyes shifted from the letter to look at Riven. The eerie soft glow behind them made her feel instantly uncomfortable._ Get out of my head_, Riven mentally growled at the summoner. She hated these summoners in particular. They used to be normal everyday summoners serving within the League. However, despite their ability to use the power of the arcane to help guide champions on the Fields of Justice, some summoners let that power poison their minds, twisting their judgments and corrupting their self-control causing them to grow power hungry and destructive. The delicate balance on which Valoran teetered has no room for corrupted mages due to Valoran's very existence being threatened proceeding the Rune War. A mage to found guilty of corruption within the court of the arcane was a sentence to death. The more behaved found their sentences less extreme and the Institute made use of their "service." _GET OUT! _Riven's mind yelled at the invader.

The woman smirked and her eyes shifted away from the exile. The summoner nodded at the guards, signifying that the document was legitimate.

"Champion, please relieve yourself of all weapons, for they are not permitted beyond this platform," the guard announced.

_So obedient and trained…just like a dog… _Riven thought as her attention returned to the guards.

_Remind you of someone? _A voice echoed within the exile's mind. The voice sounded distorted, as if many people were speaking in unison.

Riven furiously turned her attention back to the female summoner bound in enchanted chains and irons. The Noxian's eyes narrowed at the summoner. A younger summoner walked up to Riven to retrieve her sword. The exile flipped the blade, her hand gripping the stone within the broken gap so the hilt was pointing towards the young man. The summoner grabbed the hilt with both hands and nearly collapsed to the floor under the weight of the blade once Riven let go. The young man struggled to drag the blade away.

_I said get out; _Riven threatened the invasive summoner once more.

_I can't summon you to see Kolminye if you resist me exile, relax._ The female summoner tilted her head to the side and smirked at Riven once more.

Riven grit her teeth as she passed the guards and stepped onto the platform, her attention never leaving the silver haired summoner. She looked to be an age similar to Riven's, despite her silver hair. The color of her eyes, hair and pale skin was likely due to the damaging effects from losing control of arcane energy. Riven looked down at the pale blue light that began to glow under her feet. The exile closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she could feel the unique sensation she only ever felt when being summoned begin to surge through her body.

_Do me a favor Exile of Noxus; tell Vessa, I miss her dearly._

Riven eyes shot open and she turned her head to look at the summoner only to be greeted by the blinding light of the summoning spell. Riven squeezed her eyes shut from the pain of the light and stood quietly on the receiving platform. She rubbed her eyes and opened them. Riven blinked a few times trying to let her eyes recover from the shock caused by the light. Riven stepped off the platform once her eyes adjusted back to normal. The Noxian stared down the hallway and began to walk. She had only been here once before, to face judgment. The color scheme was the same as what the summoners dressed in, dark purples and blues with gold trim liming the edges of the cloth. If Riven remembered correctly, the High Counselor's office was near the judgment chamber.

The exile began to feel uncomfortable in the oppressive silence as she walked towards the judgment chamber. She shuddered slightly as she started to pass the marble doors of the chamber.

_No, no, no, no, no…No more, please._

A look of shock took ahold of Riven's features as two Noxian soldiers passed by both her sides from behind and approached the young sobbing girl in tattered bloody cloths standing in the hallway. "No…stop," Riven muttered. The soldiers didn't listen as they went to detain the young defenseless civilian. "Stop…" They grabbed the young girl. The exile squeezed her eyes shut. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" Riven yelled in a commanding tone. She opened her eyes to be met by the silent empty hall. Riven's breathing was heavy as she dropped to her knees in front of the marble doors of the summoning chamber. The Noxian warrior shook her head slightly then turned her head to look at the marble doors.

_The Truest Opponent Lies Within._

Riven frowned and stood up from the floor. The ghosts of the past had left her, for now. Her eyes traced the curves of the lettering engraved into the marble doors of the chamber.

"Ah, just the person I was expecting to see."

Riven's attention snapped to the voice that spoke.

The High Counselor stood not too far from Riven.

"You wished to see me, High Counselor?" Riven still didn't understand why Kolminye wanted to see her.

The High Counselor gave a friendly smile towards the exile. "Yes, I need to get your paperwork done for your suspension. Come, come," Kolminye gestured Riven to follow with her hand as she turned away from the Noxian and began to walk down the hall.

Riven hesitated slightly before following the High Counselor to her office. The room was large and circular. Between each marble pillar hung a banner from every city-state that was represented within the league. For Champions like Riven, one's who claimed independence; they simply fought under the banner of the Institute of War. Riven's eyes locked onto the banner that bared the crest of her homeland. Her expression turned slightly somber as she forced herself to look away from it.

"Home is the one place that understands true love. A place that our feet may leave, but our hearts forever reside."

Riven looked from the floor up to the High Counselor who was sitting in a large chair behind a beautifully carved desk made from dark wood.

Kolminye extended one of her hands towards the chair sitting across from her and her desk, which was covered in piles of paperwork and scrolls. The large window behind Kolminye had a dark tint to it, making the sunlight less intense when coming directly through the window.

Riven quietly walked up to the chair and sat down. She remained silent as she watched the High Counselor shuffle through some paperwork.

"For starters, it seems that we did not get off onto the right foot the other day Riven, so, I apologize if anything I said hurt or stressed you in anyway," Kolminye said as she continued to look through the various piles of paper that covered her desk. "Now, I want to discuss how the Institute is going to approach this… rather unique… situation…Ah ha!" The High Counselor pulled a sheet of paper from the pile she was rummaging through and handed it to Riven. "This is your official 'Right of Way,' it is your documentation that the Institute has given you permission to visit and stay in Ionia as a representative of The League of Legends. You must get that document to Karma as soon as possible."

Riven scanned over the details of the document for a short moment. "Karma is a Champion of the League… why can't we just tell her?" Riven asked as she looked up at the High Counselor from the page in her hand.

The High Counselor was shuffling through more documents as she answered Riven's question, "Karma is not the soul leader of Ionia. The rest of the elders that comprise their counsel will want documented proof that the Institute is being held responsible for your behavior when visiting their country," Kolminye peered at Riven from the current handful of papers she held in her hand. "Need I remind you of your origins, Riven?" The counselor pulled another page from the pile she held and offered it to Riven. "This is a copy of your medical suspension from the League; that document needs to be taken to Soraka to be put in your health file, and yes, we check those regularly so I will know if it got there or not."

Riven sighed slightly and took the document from the High Counselor and stacked it with her visitation paper. Riven sunk back into the chair as Kolminye leaned forward towards Riven. Her elbows rested on the desk and her chin resting on her entwined fingers.

"I do hope you will do all you can to make the most out of this suspension Riven. When you return you will be facing a new judgment and I assure you the Institute will not make the same mistake again by choosing what we may find to be traumatic. I suggest you find a way to come to peace with yourself and learn to let others in or you may have a problem when you return. I will not hesitate to pick through every single memory you have stored in that head of yours to be sure that you are capable of serving this establishment with ZERO conflict. We cannot afford to have dysfunctional Champions. I hope you don't take offense to that; I only do what I must to protect the reputation of the Institute. I don't want to discharge you Riven, you are a powerful asset to the Institute as an individual representative of the League. So please, do what they tell you and behave like a professional. Have I made myself clear?" Kolminye's tone was serious but Riven could hear the hint of care behind her words as well. Despite Vessaria being a High Counselor of the Institute, she was still a human being.

"Crystal clear, High Counselor," Riven nodded.

"You're dismissed," Kolminye said as she set her hands back down onto her desk.

The Noxian stood up and bowed her head slightly before turning her back to the High Counselor and made her way to the door.

_Do me a favor Exile of Noxus; tell Vessa, I miss her dearly._

Riven paused as the summoner's words from earlier repeated in her mind. The exile turned and looked over her shoulder to see the High Counselor looking through paper work again. "High Counselor," Riven called out to the woman sitting at the desk.

The High Counselor stopped shuffling for a moment and looked at the exile.

"The chained summoner in charge of the platform says she misses you," Riven relayed the message.

The High Counselor simply nodded before returning to her task of shuffling through paperwork.

The exile walked down the hallway towards the platform. She silently stepped back onto the summoning platform and looked down at the documents in her hands. The soft swirling blue light began to dance around her feet and she closed her eyes allowing the summoner to transport her. Upon returning to the guarded platform she looked over at the chained summoner. _She only nodded,_ Riven thought so the summoner could hear. To Riven's surprise the woman said nothing in return. The exile's expression turned into a somber frown as she watched the tears roll down the summoner's cheeks from her cloudy eyes. Riven quietly stepped off the platform and retrieved her weapon from the young summoner who struggled to move the blade once more. The exile paused before walking too far from the platform. _She still loves you, your beating heart can attest to that, Corrupted one._ With that final thought Riven walked away from what may have been the High Counselor's only family still remaining in this world.

Once Riven made it back into the main hall of the Institute she looked around and pondered what to do next. The exile looked down at the papers she held in her free hand. She decided to drop of the health record first since it would be quick and simple.

Riven approached the entrance to the infirmary in hopes of finding Soraka. She sighed in relief to find the Starchild sitting at the check in desk. "I have a document for you Soraka," Riven said as she separated the medical record from the visitation document.

Soraka looked up from her book and nodded taking the paper from the exile. "Is that your 'Right of Way' as well Riven?"

Riven nodded.

Soraka stuck out her hand once more. "I will be seeing Karma soon, I can give that to her for you if you want me to," the starchild offered.

"That would be greatly appreciated Soraka if you could do that for me. I still have something I have to do and I'm running out of time," Riven said as she handed the starchild the second document. "Which reminds me, have you seen Lux?"


	9. Chapter 9: Actions Not Words

**Author's Note: OH...MY...GOD. I was so sick last week... Sorry for the late update (at least in my book its way past due) Yeah between being sick and me being frustrated with the ranked system in League (please bring back URF mode riot... get all the screw balls out of my ranked games...) I took my sweet time finishing this chapter.**

**Thanks to everyone leaving constructive criticism I'm REALLY thankful for it. As for the ones showing concern for the development of Riven's Mental issues when she goes to Ionia, trust me, I've done my research. I'm not a writer that is interested in making everything turn out fine dandy and perfect. Mary Sues and Gary stues in event form are more frustrating then when they are traits of a character. Patience is a virtue 3**

**Reviews always welcome. Enjoy!**

**P.S: The name _Titus_ you will encounter in this chapter is pronounced _T-eye-tus_ not _Tee-tus._ Just wanna clear that up now before people find the name sounding less epic and cool. (at least I find it to be...) Also don't hate on my attempt to write and accent. I TRIED!**

* * *

Chapter 9: Actions…Not Words

"Is something troubling you, Ms. Crownguard?"

A pair of crystal blue irises shifted up from the tanned pages of the old tattered tome to acknowledge Diana's question. Luxanna closed her eyes and shrugged her shoulders slightly in response. "No need to be formal, Diana, you are my friend so feel free to just address me as Lux," she said as her eyes shifted back down to the book.

The Scorn of the Moon leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Lux's body language answered the Lunari warrior's question, regardless if her company tried to dodge the subject.

The Demacian mage sat there quietly; slumped over a book with her cheek resting in the palm of her hand while her eyes lazily traced along the written text of the pages.

"A distracted mind won't retain anything, Lux," Diana interrupted the mage's reading once more, "Even if _Ancient Ionian Shamanism _seems interesting."

Lux released a long and drawn out sigh and tilted her head back and let her body go limp in the chair. After a few prolonged seconds, the Demacian Champion sat up straight and rubbed her temples with her fingers before responding to Diana. "To be honest, I haven't read a single word…"

"I figured as much, considering the tome is written in the Ionian tongue," Diana replied flatly. The Lunari Champion cocked an eye-brow when Lux giggled slightly.

Despite Diana's demeanor being typically serious in nature, Lux couldn't help but chuckle. "You have to admit it is a beautiful language in the written form though, very artistic."

"It is completely opposite from the Noxian language and dialects. They just sound angry even if the intended communication was meant to be _generous_; I use the term loosely, in nature. Even trying to read and sound out the words makes me want to internally rage at the world," Diana smirked slightly.

Luxanna projected an exuberant laugh; one that was frankly far too loud for their setting. "They do sound mad all the time!" Even though they were in the library, Lux had to admit to herself she needed to laugh off her slum mood.

"Ha, it must be awkward when they try to express gentle things. Like love for example," Diana chuckled slightly.

Lux sighed and frowned a bit, "It isn't awkward at all. That which does not exist cannot be awkward. Noxians don't express soft and gentle feelings like love. To them that is a weak emotion and to be weak in Noxus is to be useless."

Diana cocked an eye brow once more and leaned on the table, showing interest in this subject. "I find that to be very odd. In fact, I almost find it completely absurd. The people where I come from are obsessed with the 'Art of War.' The warriors of the Rakkor tribes on Mount Targon are a hearty group who live within traditions and the quest for mastering the art of war and battle. However, despite their physical power and lust for fighting, their true strength lies within their passions. A warrior that holds a deep love for something, whether it would be an activity, a person, place or thing, it gave them the power and strength through their passion to become something greater than what they were before. It gives them a _reason _to become greater; it gives them the_ conviction _they need to push forward_._ To them, to love something is to be willing to put your very existence on the line to protect it, no matter what form it takes. Tell me, is there is no true Noxian that can feel passion for anything…even their very homeland?"

The light mage remained quite as she thought over Diana's question. She didn't know what to say. The Noxian culture seemed so straight forward about their functions and beliefs that it almost sounded impossible for them to see passion and love as a form of strength. Luxanna ran a hand through her golden locks and sighed. "I guess it is possible," she finally responded to the Scorn of the Moon, "But it would certainly not be displayed around their peers."

Diana stretched her arms and yawned, "Everyone has their public personas and secrets, Lux. You have them, I have them; Noxians; Demacians; People of the Freljord; it matters not." Dianna rubbed her eyes.

* * *

Riven's shoulders were tense as she marched down the great hall of the Institute. To any on looker, her posture and movement made it seem as if she was trudging through thick mud. Despite Riven's body language giving of the impression that she was heading toward a predetermined destination, in all reality she was looking for someone; the first Demacian Champion she could find. Riven was hoping she would just find Lux without having to confront another Champion; such fortune was not in her favor. She froze as her eyes locked onto the tall and slender Champion. _Fiora,_ her mind shuddered as she approached the Grand Duelist.

Fiora's eyes narrowed as the Noxian exile approached her. "Pardon moi," Fiora scowled as she pushed passed the summoner that was talking to her and stepped up to her unwanted company.

The two Champions stared one another down. Despite Riven and Fiora being almost the same height, the Grand Duelist was had nowhere near the physical mass the Noxian fighter had.

Fiora's eyes scanned the exile a couple times, her slight sneer never faltered as she did so. "I know not vat zey feed you Noxians as children, but your physique does not bo'zair me, _Exil._ Ve b'oze know zat speed and precision vill alvays top raw streng'z," Fiora spoke with a flat tone. The dark haired duelist felt her insides burn with displeasure knowing the last time she faced Riven the fight ended in a draw, because of that, Fiora had to consider the exile a worthy opponent until she was defeated by her blade. However, Fiora was never going to give Riven the satisfaction of knowing that she was one Fiora considered relatively close to an equal until she was struck down.

Riven bit her tongue in an attempt to hold back a response, despite Fiora questioning her ability to fight with "speed and precision." The exile wasn't here to trade words with the Demacian duelist, only to ask her a question. Riven swallowed the verbal jab she had clawing at the inside of her teeth before speaking. "Fiora, have you seen Luxanna?"

"Zee Crownguard girl? I care little for 'er. Vy vould you ask me vere she vould be?" Fiora raised an eye brow. She seemed to be taken off guard by the question. "Vy do you vant to know?"

"I simply have a question I wish to ask her," Riven replied plainly.

Fiora's eyes narrowed once more as she tried find a motive through the exile's eyes. The little response she was getting out of Riven was beginning to bore her. The onyx haired Demacian sighed and crossed her arms. "If zee Crownguard brat isn't out 'ere mingling vif zee people, zen I vould bet she is in la bibliothèque. Zat girl, alvays vif 'er face in a book."

Riven blinked a couple times. She was certainly surprised by Fiora's sudden cooperation. One thing was for certain, she had no idea what the hell a "bibliothèque" was. "Where?" Riven asked, her confusion portrayed clearly through her tone.

Fiora grumbled slightly in frustration. "Steeoopid, incompetent, peasant…" she mumbled, "Zee library! You know? Vif all zee books!?"

Riven's knuckled cracked from her hand gripping the hilt of her blade tightly as Fiora verbally jabbed at her again. Riven despised those who would rather fight with their tongue than draw their blades. She always considered action before conversation. Earn the right to speak down upon someone by besting them before opening your mouth, which was her belief and that was why Draven and a certain red headed assassin always seemed to get on her nerves outside of the Fields of Justice. The snowy haired Noxian could feel the runic spiritual energy start to make her sword arm tingle as the blade reacted to the frustration welling within its master's heart. _Control it…_Riven pleaded to herself as her body shook slightly from the overloading energy that was leaking from her weapon. Riven looked down at the floor while she struggled to keep the built up runic energy held in.

_"__Foolish, incompetent, weakling!" the Drill Sergeant roared and struck the young trainee's face with his metal encased, armored fist. _

_The trainee toppled over onto the floor of the training room and cradled his bloodied and beaten face with his hands. The crimson liquid life ran down the young man's forearms as his frame shook slightly from the blow. _

_ "__Get up, Titus," the Sergeant spat._

_Titus didn't move; still shaken up from the first hit._

_ "__That's an order, grunt!" the large man commanded and kicked the younger man across the floor. The cracking sound of bone could be heard when the trainee was kicked, causing some of his fellow classmates to flinch slightly as he rolled close to them. "Pathetic waste," the superior growled as the injured boy coughed and tried to crawl towards his peers using his forearms to drag his lower body. The higher up bellowed an insidious laugh as he approached Titus. The Drill Sergeant's large armored boot came to rest on the trainee's head. "Which one of you spineless maggots can tell me how much pressure it takes to crush a human skull?"_

_Titus laid there under his commander's boot. The blood from his mouth started to pool under his face where he lay. His pleading gaze slowly followed along the faces of his on looking peers. He could feel the pressure from his superior's boot begin to grow in strength as his classmates said nothing in response to the Drill Sergeant's question. He closed his eyes; His fate was sealed as the pressure became almost painful. No one would ever stand up for a weak Noxian. A slight gasp from the group of trainee's finally broke the silence. He opened his eyes feeling the pressure dissipate from his head. His gaze met the boots of one of his peers as they stepped over him._

_ "__How dare you lay your hands on a superior, you whelp!"_

_The trainee that shoved the Sergeant away from Titus didn't respond. She placed herself between the seasoned Noxian commander and her classmate._

_Titus mustered what little strength and consciousness he had to turn his head to see which fool would throw their life away for his. The only identifying factor to reveal his savior was the messy and short mop of alabaster locks atop the tan skinned trainee's head. The features were unique to one person in the training squad; the features were rather unique for a Noxian descendant in general. _

_ "__To beat on the one's you know are weaker than yourself is no display of strength, sir. With all due respect, you're setting a bad example for all of us, whelps, by beating on the feeble. We all know Noxus herself will purge the meek; do not waste your strength or soil your reputation by staining your officer boots with the blood of a weak and hesitant peasant boy from the outer wall, Sir."_

_The Drill Sergeant grumbled deeply but chose to overlook the sudden insubordination of his star pupil by heeding her words. She had learned well. "Get that pathetic mess out of my training room; you're all dismissed!" the commander spat at the group of trainees and turned his back to walk away. The entire group stood at attention and saluted their commanding officer by pulling an arm across their chests, letting their right fist press against their chest just below their left shoulder. The training room cleared out quickly, but Titus and the platinum haired girl stayed._

_ "__Get up, Titus," she growled, showing no intention of turning to look at him._

_A few moments of silence passed and the young Noxian boy hadn't moved._

_The young fare-haired female trainee sneered, sensing that her classmate still lay on the floor. "You should feel insulted if I have to turn around and look down at you. Prove to me that you're worth my breath! You talk tough but never back up your words! Fight with your strength! Not your tongue! Fighting with words is a coward's game, now, get up, Titus!" she shouted, still refusing to turn around and look at the boy. _

_Titus laid there a moment longer before he slowly tried to turn over onto his stomach. He coughed causing crimson liquid spackle onto the floor as he managed to get to his hands and knees. Blood trickled from his mouth and collected on his lower lip and dripped silently onto matting of the combat floor. Titus managed to bring his knee up to his chest and get his foot under his body weight. Everything hurt, but he needed to try and stand. He cleared his throat and took a couple heavy breaths before pushing himself up from the floor and to his feet. Titus' body swayed slightly as he struggled to stand up straight._

_The girl turned around to face Titus. Her blazing irises burned deep into the adjacent half lidded pools of soft amber. Her expression was one laced with serious disappointment and frustration. She relentlessly stared the boy down. He lowered his head to look at the floor. His brunette hair was stained and matted with his own blood. Her arms crossed tight across her chest. "I promised mom on her death bed that I would look out for you, Titus. Don't you ever, EVER, put me into a situation like this again because you can't shut the hell up and keep your words to yourself," she said sternly, "We only have each other now, you idiot. We either join the armed forces, or we waste away on the streets, so please try to find some discipline before you get yourself killed. Damn it, Titus! I can't protect you forever!" _

_Titus fought to stay standing as he felt his older sister shove him away. He stood there quietly, still feeling the intensity of his sibling's stare weighing down on him. He needed her more than she needed him. She was the pride of the military academy. Her reputation saved him today. "I'm…sorry Ri—_

_ "__Don't," she interrupted. "Don't apologize to me. No more hesitation. No more talking. That time is over. Just prove to yourself that you're more than just a shit talking peasant boy from the outer wall that has to hide behind his sister…"_

_Titus brought his head up to look his only remaining family member in the eyes. He fought back his hesitation and tried to speak with a strong and confident tone. "Yes, Riven."_

"Vats zee matter, Riven, too hesitant and passive to reply?" Fiora taunted her.

The exile snapped and shoved the pompous Demccian duelist with enough force to make Fiora stumble slightly from the sudden physical contact. Riven grit her teeth as the thin steel blade, still vibrating from behind drawn from its sheath, was brought deadly close to her throat with blinding speed. Her own reaction time was just as quick, the broken point of her own weapon pressed close to the Grand Duelist' abdomen. Her body shook violently from the built up energy.

"Don't you ever lay your 'ands on me again you fil'zy Noxian dog," Fiora threatened the exile with a toxic tone.

Riven's eye brows pulled together as she stared down Fiora. "You actually drew your blade. I see you are capable of fighting without your tongue; shocking," Riven's voice cracked from her straining self-control.

"Go bo'zer zee Crownguard girl, vee are done 'ere," the Grand Duelist retracted her blade and walked away.

The exile watched the dark haired Demacian walk away. Her body still vibrated with energy. The rune carved within the black stone blade glowed bright with power and Riven finally tore her attention away from Fiora. She grumbled harshly and stormed off to the nearest training room she could find.

Upon arriving at the training room located in the western wing she nearly broke the door down to get inside. She was relieved to see the room was empty as she slammed the blade down onto the floor and screamed. A powerful burst of energy emitted from her being and she tossed the blade away as she dropped to her hands and knees. Her breathing was ragged and her finger nails dug into the floor. Riven's body shuddered from the aftershock due to the built up energy the rune blade had harbored within her. The Ionians during the war called it a _Ki Shout,_ but it was more of a burst than anything else. Riven didn't care what it was called; all she knew was since the blade was shattered the energy had less sword to be stored within and when the runic power saturated what remained of the great sword to its capacity it had nowhere to go but to her. The power amplification within the Fields of Justice with the help of a summoner carrying the overload made it easier on her body. However, away from the assistance of summoning this runic overload would sometimes completely wipe out the exile's stamina. Riven stayed there for a few moments longer before finding her way to her feet again. The memory from her past stung slightly in her mind as she picked up the flickering rune blade from the floor. Despite how painful and stressing it was on Riven's body to store the leaking runic power from her blade, the release of the energy sometimes helped her relax. Past frustrations and distractions would dissipate along with the energy.

Riven collected herself before she stepped out of the training room. She quietly wandered down the hall ways of the Institute, following the signs that directed her to the location of the library. Riven had never really felt the need to stray from the locations within the Institute that she needed for daily living. This usually consisted of her Room, the training halls, the summoning chambers and the food court. The library was located at the end of the southern wing.

Riven gapped at the architecture as she approached the front gates of the library. "Sweet mother of Valoran…" she whispered to herself in total amazement as she tilted her head up to take in the full height of the library's gateway. Riven had seen a lot of things in her travels, but this was certainly up there on her list of great sights. The two gigantic marble pillars each held a large regal red banner with golden trim that bared the crest of the institute. Riven walked up to the staircase that lead to the doors of the library. To both sides of her sat a podium, each one had a large stone statue of a detailed and intricate animal perched atop both of the podiums. One looked to be carved from the same marble as the two great pillars while the other looked to be created from a black stone similar to her blade. Each podium had a plaque with an inscription.

The exile walked over to the podium to her left which the noble wolf sat upon. Usually riven associated wolves to be aggressive and snarling creatures of the night, but this one looked patient and composed. The emerald gems within the eye sockets of the statue made the creature look calm and collected. Her eyes shifted down to the plaque that was mounted on the podium. The plaque was created from very polished and reflective silver. Riven could see her reflection in the metal surface. She let her eyes focus on the inscription.

_The Guardians of Higher Learning:_

_WISDOM_

_To learn and know about others is to gain intelligence; to learn and know of one's self is to gain wisdom._

Riven noticed her reflection once more after finishing the inscription. _To know one's self…_ Riven shook her head and walked over to the other podium.

The podium to the right was the seat of a great marble lion. The lion looked regal and strong. The ruby crystals it had for eyes were piercing and powerful. Riven looked down from the great creature to read its plaque.

_The Guardians of Higher Learning:_

_STRENGTH_

_Knowledge is power. A strong and educated mind far exceeds the physical limitations of the mortal body._

Riven touched the black stone plaque. Her finger tips gently ghosting the letters of the word that controlled everything in her life. The exile sighed deeply and stepped away from the podium. Riven looked up at the doors to the library only to see one more inscription etched into the marble above the doors. The letters were laced with gold so they could be read from a distance.

"Courage and patience paves the road to greater understanding."

The exile jolted slightly, hearing the intelligent, yet rather high pitched, voice read the inscription aloud. Riven turned her head to find the source of the voice only to find nothing but the empty space around her. She jumped, feeling the tickling sensation of hair brush against her calf. Riven immediately looked down to find Heimerdinger walking past her.

"It is a fitting statement to represent the world of academia, hee hee, but the true question one must ask is; do you have the patience, courage, wisdom and strength to pass through the gates?" the yordle stated as he half jumped onto the first stair.

Riven quietly watched the yordle brainiac half jump up each step towards the doors. The large golden mass of hair laced with streaks of white bounced lively with each hop the yordle Champion took. The exile couldn't help but wonder how Hemierdinger didn't just fall over from the weight of his head. Riven blinked a couple times as Heimer's blue goggles turned their focus to her from the top of the staircase.

"I never pegged you to be someone who finds pleasure in learning," Heimerdinger gleefully chuckled and wiggled his mustache. "Then again, one shouldn't judge a book by its cover. If you do, then you might miss out on learning a bountiful amount of knowledge." With those final words, the yordle turned away from Riven and entered the library.

Riven stepped onto the first step and paused for a moment. Her attention shifted back to the emerald eyes of the statue that was charged with guarding the virtue of _Wisdom_ in learning. Riven gazed at the patient looking black wolf statue and couldn't help but feel it reminded her of something but she couldn't put her finger on it. Drawing in a deep breath through her nose she exhaled and ascended the steps to the library doors. She had no more time to waste, she needed to find Lux.


End file.
